


Catfish

by PwoperNinjaElf



Category: Muse
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:44:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 101,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PwoperNinjaElf/pseuds/PwoperNinjaElf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People aren't always who they claim to be...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
It was finally going to happen. After all this time I was finally going to meet him. I couldn't quite believe that it was actually happening, after well over a year of endless back and forth texts and messages via Facebook, as well as the rare and cherished phone calls, the day had come at last.  
  
"You nervous?" Tom asked, looking away from the road briefly to check on me.  
  
"You have no idea, perhaps more excited though," I replied, my fingers running through my thick, blond hair. "I just hope he won't be mad that I'm surprising him like this."  
  
"Well the time has come for the two of you to finally meet already, Dom. I swear, it's getting ridiculous. I mean, for all you know he isn't even who he says he is! He could be like a transvestite or, God forbid, even - gasp - a woman!" Tom said, ruining the seriousness by laughing at his own sense of humour.  
  
Okay, right now you're probably wondering what the hell we're on about? Well, it all started about a year ago...  
  
I'd recently broken up with my long-term boyfriend and had been feeling lonely, but not quite ready yet to go out back into 'the game' so to speak. But had then somehow in the meantime 'friended' a 'friend of a friend' on Facebook - I don't even remember who added who anymore - but either way, the two of us began to get talking and, well... Let's just say we hit it off, okay?  
  
And just like that, James Bellamy and I had formed a strange sort of relationship, the two of us unable to go a day without speaking. Naturally I'd had my suspicions at first, but he'd had a large number of 'friends' and that was something I knew one had to check when talking to someone they'd never met. So surely it wasn't a fake account?  
  
He also had tons of pictures of himself up, and I must say I was rather happy with the way he looked too. So, not only did he have a cracking personality, but he's also tall and muscled with short, dark-blond hair and has the most stunning blue eyes ever. Not to mention the fact that he has a job as a lawyer and isn't afraid to speak his mind. Quite frankly it was as if the bloke of my dreams had materialised.  
  
The problem came in though, whenever we'd arrange to meet up, that something would always come up and he could never make it. I'd told Tom and he'd been suspicious from the get go, but he just needs to learn that one's got to have a little faith sometimes. The next thing too, was that James didn't live where he said he did...so doubts are already swimming about in my head, but maybe he's just shy in person and too scared to meet up?  
  
Tom reckons, 'If James is even who he claims to be', that it's because he's most likely some bloke who's married and still in the closet...he has other theories too, but he rates that's the one he'd put money on. Tom has also always been a sceptic.  
  
But you're also probably wondering how I know James is lying about where he lives, right? Well, you see, Tom's really computer savvy and did some web tracking and some other (no doubt illegal) tracing and discovered that James actually lives around here too and not in London (like he says) after all!  
  
Now this probably should've put me off, but I'm sure he's got a perfectly decent answer for lying about that. He was probably just trying to make himself sound more successful or something to impress me, but that doesn't really matter to me. If anything this little nugget of news could make everything even better and more perfect as we'd actually be able to see each other a lot from now on (granted today's meet goes well), without having to commute between here and London.  
  
"But seriously, Dom, what're you gonna do if it turns out he's married or something?" Tom persisted, clearly as nervous as I was.  
  
"I honestly don't know, I'm just going out on a limb here and gonna try to have some faith. After all, for all we know he may think _I'm_ a fake!" I replied, nervously checking my reflection in the mirror flap again. "And if he's really not who he says he is...well then at least I'll get some closure."  
  
"I guess. All of this is still actually kinda crazy, you know?" Tom shook his head, but a smile was playing on his lips. "I just really hope he is your prince charming, Dom. You deserve a little happiness."  
  
Okay, so perhaps you're a little lost at this, no? Well to make a long story short, let's just say I haven't had the easiest time over the years. Basically, in a nutshell, my family pretty much disowned me when I finally mustered up the courage to come out to them when I was about 17, and kicked me out...  
  
Ever since then, Tom and I have been a sort of package deal, his family having taken me in and then eventually helped us buy a flat. I couldn't afford to go to university, considering I had no money to speak of, so I couldn't go and study graphic design like I'd always wanted to. Instead though, I now earn a living working as the floor manager at a local music store. Hey, I've always loved music and know a fair bit about it, plus I earn a decent enough wage too; life could definitely be worse.  
  
"I hope so too, trust me. At the end of the day though, it's not the idea of him that I fell in love with, but the person. He's funny and whenever I have a tough day he can always cheer me up, I tell him anything and he always has good ideas to help me out. I don't know what I'll do if he turns out to be someone else...if he's still got the same personality though? Who knows..." I admitted, my attention now focused on the road ahead, as Tom continued to follow the GPS to our destination and my fate.  
  
***  
  
After what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than 20 or so minutes at most, we finally arrived. I was so nervous, I could hear the sound of my blood pumping through my veins, as I opened Tom's car door and got out.  
  
Naturally, I stalled then and froze to the spot as I took in the simple house before me. Everything was suddenly becoming all too real, I was struggling to grasp the fact that this was actually now about to happen, after months in the making.  
  
"Well, if it does turn out to just be some chick, I am going to have to laugh. Just so you know," Tom informed me, before he wished me luck once more and gave me the space I'd requested and went for a drive around the area, to leave me to face my fate at last.  
  
Legs feeling unstable and my veins rushing with adrenalin and a mixture of nerves and excitement, I strode up to the front door and gave it a good knock before I could talk myself out of everything.  
  
Shit, what if this wasn't even his house? What if he wasn't even home? What if he was actually married and the wife answered the door? What if he had a whole brood of kids he'd never told me about? What if he's actually a she?! What if it was all just some fun to pass the time and he doesn't feel the same?! What if he's super furious I just showed up without warning?! What if-  
  
Suddenly I heard a call from inside the house, followed by the sound of what must have been someone running down stairs to reach the door, before the 'click' of the lock sounded and the door opened to reveal...  
  
...to reveal some overly skinny kid with dyed black hair.  
  
Okay, I began to think. Must be the wrong house then... Dammit, and after all of that! Now what?  
  
Just then, however, as I stood there awkwardly and my mind began to race for some excuse as to why I'd rang the door bell, I noticed the kid start and his eyes grow wide with fear and...recognition?  
  
"Uh..." I began, my brain trying to think of something - anything - to say to the stranger who was looking at me like he'd just met the queen in his boxers.  
  
James. Ask about James. Come on, Dominic, you can do this, I thought shaking my head to clear it, so I could speak some sense. Maybe it wasn't all lost? I mean, the kid's eyes certainly looked a familiar shade of bright blue, perhaps I had come to the right house?  
  
This could just be James' little brother or something, right? So James still lived with his folks, I could deal with that.  
  
"Does, uh, James Bellamy live here?" I tried, getting slightly freaked out now by how the kid was staring at me like a deer in the headlights.  
  
His thin lips parted, ready to say something, a prominent Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed and he shakily ran long fingers through the lengthy, black fringe of hair hanging over his forehead. If I wasn't mistaken he looked absolutely terrified and shocked senseless.  
  
"U-uh, um, h-he, he, uh, he..." the kid tried, his voice squeaking at one point in a knack jump.  
  
"He?" I encouraged. I mean really, it's not like I was asking for a lot. Just a simple yes or no answer would suffice.  
  
"Um...D-Dom-Dominic? I-It's me. I-I'm Ja-James," he finally managed, biting his lip nervously.  
  
"Sorry what?" I asked cautiously. Surely I hadn't heard him right? I mean, he was stuttering so much, who could blame me?  
  
"I-It-it's m-me, I-I'm, I'm James, well sort of. You've been t-talking to me, Dominic," he replied, biting his lip harder and averted his eyes down to his shoes after briefly shooting me a nervous look of apology. "I-I lied to you. S-sorry."  
  
"But...you're just a kid..." was all I could manage as I stared at the _boy_ before me, my jaw literally touching the floor. No ways. Na-uh. "There's no way you're James."  
  
"But, but, I-I am. W-well...personality wise-"  
  
"You aren't him." There was absolutely no way he was James. Not my James.  
  
"Look, Dominic, I-I am. Ask me anything y-you told James, I'll be able to answer it. I promise you, it's me," he persisted to insist, still biting his bottom lip.  
  
"No. Who are you? Why are you lying to me?" I demanded, my insides cracking and aching. No. It couldn't possibly be true. No. Not after a year and a bit of constant daily chats and...  
  
No.  
  
"M-Ma-Matthew, my name's Matthew Bellamy, but I swear to you, I was myself the whole time," he answered, nervously scuffing his shoe.  
  
" _Matthew_ Bellamy?! Then who's the man in the pictures? Who's the James I fell for? The man I told I loved?!" I demanded, sterner now, my voice beginning to rise as my fists started to shake at my sides.  
  
"The pictures are of my brother, Ben, but it-it was me that you fell in love with; I'm the one that fell-fell in love with y-you. It was me-"  
  
I don't know what came over me, perhaps the surge and confusion of disappointment, anger and loss were too much, but either way, the next thing I knew was that my fist was connecting with the easy target of his nose.  
  
The second my knuckles made contact with his cartilage I regretted it, but it was too late, the damage had been done and Matthew hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, whimpering and curling up in on himself.  
  
Great. Now I really feel like one hell of a dumb fuck up. Not only did I fall for - and in love with - someone who didn't even exist, I could now add battery and assault of a minor to the list. Fucking fabulous. Oh life, you never fail to prove that whenever I think I've hit rock-bottom, there's always a new low to fall.  
  
"Shit, I'm sorry! Matthew, are you okay?" I asked, crouching down, instantly going into my panicked guilt mode, this definitely wasn't like me at all. I wasn't a violent person.  
  
He just whimpered pitifully in response though, his hands covering his face. So, knowing that I bloody well had to now fix my latest mess, I slipped my hands under his arms and scooped the cowering boy up, back onto his now shaky legs.  
  
He kept his hands firmly over his face, even though I held him up for support, the rest of him not nearly stable enough. Big surprise there, the kid was as thin as a rake, with hardly any meat, let alone muscle on him. Nice one Dominic, you just know how to pick a fight.  
  
"Matthew, let me have a look. I want to see how bad it is and if I should take you to the hospital," I tried, doing my best to make my voice comforting and reassuring, though I could even hear the utter nervous terror echoed in it.  
  
He shook his head though. "N-no, I-I don't, don't want to go to the h-hospital." I could hear he was trying not to cry, but like me, he wasn't fooling anyone.  
  
"Well can you at least let me take a look? Maybe I can do something, you'll just have to lead me to your kitchen or bathroom - cold water always works a trick."  
  
So, hesitant and still shaky, he nodded and slowly removed his hands.  
  
The first thing that crossed through my mind was 'Oh, shit. I am so fucking screwed!' Apart from the fact that the kid's face was coated in blood, or that his big, blue eyes were swimming with tears, his nose was, without a doubt, most likely broken. Judging by the way it was swelling at a ridiculously fast rate and was as skew as all hell.  
  
My face must've shown my emotions exactly, as the boy's eyes grew impossibly even wider. "I-is it r-really that, that bad?!"  
  
"Um, uh, come, let's just clean you up first, then we'll take it from there?"  
  
***  
  
A little while later and I found myself preparing some sugar water for Matthew (to help with the shock) after having dabbed away at his face with tissues, to try clean up some of the blood after I'd gone and reset his nose (luckily I'd taken a first aid course with Tom last summer), though it had taken awhile to convince him, as well as the threat to take him to the hospital, for him to eventually consent to me doing it.  
  
I couldn't even begin to comprehend that this was all actually happening to me; this wasn't how my special day was supposed to go. I was supposed to be united at last with the possible love of my life, not nursing some imposter who'd practically only just finished going through puberty.  
  
"What made you do it anyway?" I eventually asked, handing him the sugar water as I sat down on the opposite chair of the little kitchenette.  
  
He slowly shifted the homemade ice pack on his nose with a wince, so that he could take a sip from the glass with shaky hands. His only reply was to shrug his scrawny shoulders.  
  
"I'm serious, Matthew. That's over a year of my life gone, wasted talking to someone who wasn't even real. The least you could do is give me some kind of explanation."  
  
"It was real though, it was me...just a different face to my voice," he finally replied, the first, unfaltered, proper words I'd heard out of his mouth. And my God did I feel my heart momentarily rise, only to feel like it had then been shot down into a million pieces. James' voice _was_ Matthew's voice. The last hopes of this being some kind of joke completely dashed.  
  
"It wasn't real. It wasn't you, you're obviously not the man in the pictures - this Ben - and you don't look nearly old enough to be a successful lawyer, not to mention the fact that you also don't live in London or own your own house, judging by all the furnishings... None of it _was_ real. You're just some kid who thought it would be fun to mess someone around with a long fucking red herring," I stated, sounding surprisingly calm, as I looked sternly at his tear and blood stained face.  
  
"I may not look like Ben, or have his job or life, but I am the _person_ that you spoke to. Everything I said was genuine, I meant it all...I...I still do," he finished, raising his watery blue eyes to look straight in my own eyes.  
  
"Kid, I don't think you could even know the meaning of the word 'love'. Like seriously, how old are you even, 16?" I asked, pushing out of the chair, my arms crossed and an eyebrow raised sceptically at him.  
  
"Of course I do!" he protested, slapping down the glass and ice pack and standing up too. "And I actually turn 19 in two months if you must know!" he added, actually having the nerve to look up at me indignantly.  
  
"Ooh, my mistake, almost 19! Please, like that helps jack. Kid, you still have a lot to learn about life," I replied, looking down at him, refusing to be moved. He had misled me and lied, all in the process of breaking my heart.  
  
"Oh really, says you with all of your vast count of 29 years?!" he growled, his eyebrows narrowing.  
  
"Don't shout at me, kid. You haven't a leg to stand on. Anyway, I best get going, seeing as there's nothing here for me after all," I responded, sneering the last part, which melted his suddenly hard expression back to that of the hurt, vulnerable kid I suppose he was.  
  
"B-but, Dom. Please, can't you even-"  
  
"Don't. Don't call me 'Dom'," I said, halting and turning back to jab a finger in his direction. "Seriously, _Matthew_ , how can you possibly even think something might still come out of all this? All the lies, hurt feelings and deceit aside, I'm still much too old for you. You're not my problem and nothing will ever happen."  
  
And before the boy could even respond, I turned around again and helped myself out, throwing, "Sorry again about the nose. You might still want to get a doctor to check that out for you," over my shoulder as I took my leave, back to Tom's waiting car.  
  
My knuckles were still stinging, but nothing compared to the ache in my heart and the shame I felt for having been such a mug.


	2. Chapter 2

  
A couple days had gone by, but the hurt and loss had not, not to mention all the shame and embarrassment. I'd made a right tit of myself.  
  
When I'd told Tom, he'd just nodded and given me a pat on the shoulder telling me that he was sorry. Sorry. _I_ was sorry. For everything. 15 months down the drain (and yes I'd been counting). 15 months I'd never get back. 15 months in which I'd made a complete fool of myself and wasted my time, getting emotionally invested in someone that didn't even exist.  
  
Of course I should've known from the start that it could all be false...there certainly had been enough indications, but no, like usual, I'd just had to go and be the ever trusting and good-hearted sucker I am. Sure we'd never skyped either, but he'd claimed to not have a proper camera...at first he'd had and I'd been the one without, but then apparently his had broken by the time I'd finally gotten myself an upgrade on my laptop. Typical, I'd thought. Dammit I'd been such a fool.  
  
And do you know what the worst thing about it all is? I couldn't even tell the person I always went to when I had an issue or needed comfort, because 'James' had always been that person for me.  
  
Now all I was left with was a gaping heart and the image of _Matthew_ with his bloody nose. Sometimes when I thought back to it, I didn't even feel the shame and regret for having broken the kid's nose, but rather disgustingly satisfied and like a form of justice had been paid. Either way, if I ever run into that kid again it'll be too soon.  
  
Now all I can do is rebuild my life and start anew, perhaps I should give the whole dating thing a break (especially online relationships of any kind), and instead focus on my professional life. Maybe it wasn't too late to go back and study, after all I could probably even afford it now with what I've managed to save up and a few extra hours at work.  
  
It was a rainy, wet Friday evening and while Tom was busy getting ready to leave for his weekly date with his girlfriend, Angie, I was getting comfy in front of the telly, checking the tv guide for something decent to watch.  
  
"Jesus, Dom. I'm thinking we really need to find you someone. You know what they say about riding a horse; when you fall off, you've just gotta get back on. Plus it's not really like you were even on it in the first place," he - oh so considerately - pointed out, while he shuffled into a coat to protect him from the rain.  
  
"Gee, your compassion astounds me," I replied with a huff, not in the mood to state yet again what my (apparently pretend) relationship had meant to me. "You should get going now anyway, Tom. Angie's probably already waiting."  
  
"Fine, fine, fine, I'm leaving. Have it your way, Mr Couch Potato." And with that sadly very typically childish greeting, I was left to watch whatever rerun was on in peace.  
  
I'd only watched several minutes of an old Come Dine With Me episode, however, when I heard the front door buzzer sound. Thinking Tom, the pillock, had just left his keys, I went to open it straight away. Only it wasn't Tom that I suddenly found myself standing before.  
  
"H-hi, I'm s-sorry I'm bothering you. I-I just didn't know-know anywhere else to go."  
  
I just stared back at Matthew in complete and utter shock and indignation. The boy, looking like what could only be described as a drowned rat dripping on my doorstep; his black mop of hair hanging sopping in his face, clothes drenched and clinging to his bone-thin frame, his eyes red-rimmed and his bony hand clutching a guitar case and an equally soaked kit bag slung over his pointy shoulder. He was curled in on himself and if he were a dog I'm sure he'd have his tail between his legs.  
  
"Um, excuse me. What is this? Why the fuck are you here and how do you even know where the bloody hell I live?!" I demanded, glaring down at him, my hand still firmly curled around the front door's handle.  
  
"F-Facebook remember? Y-you also told me once or t-twice..." he replied, his scrawny frame shivering away.  
  
Shit, I'd forgotten about that... Dammit, Dom, you're completely reckless and unsafe! Not to mention irresponsible and just plain stupid, if what's happened recently is anything to go by.  
  
"Oh," I replied instead, my eyes still narrowed, though if I'm completely honest, I can't deny that my stomach gave a little lurch at watching him shiver away like that.  
  
Come on, Dom. It's not your fault the moron didn't dress properly and chose to go out in this. "So why are you here? Do you really think I want to see your face again?"  
  
His watery blue eyes looked up at me helplessly. "L-like I t-told you, I-I didn't know where else to go. My parents k-kicked me out and I don-don't have any friends or even any money to get a t-train on the off chance that Ben will even t-take me in. You were the only op-option I had left."  
  
My eyes narrowed even more at this, as I properly took in the sight of him before me. Aside from his drenched and skinny state, his eyes really were red-rimmed and looked like he'd been crying, I could also make out a rather nasty bruise forming on one of his sharp cheekbones, joining his already colourful nose, which was no doubt still thanks to me.  
  
"Then how did you get here, if you had no money?" I asked, trying to stay objective, though I could already feel my frown softening.  
  
"I walked." It was a simple answer and without a chattered stutter.  
  
"What, all the way and in the rain too?" I couldn't help asking incredulously.  
  
"Yes." Well obviously, Dom. Why else would he look the way he does?  
  
"Why'd they kick you out? You steal a car or something, they catch you smoking something you shouldn't be?"  
  
"N-no, none of t-that," he replied, biting on his bottom lip, clearly a nervous trait of his. "Not like they'd notice any of that anyway."  
  
"Then why?" I asked, refusing to budge, even though I could tell he didn't want to talk about it.  
  
"Because I t-told them I was g-gay," he replied eventually, seeing that I really wasn't about to let it go, his voice a choked gasp of shame.  
  
"Oh." Well, what else do you say to that? The striking similarity to my own situation several years ago also definitely didn't go amiss to me.  
  
"A-and, and I could just remember you t-telling me the same thing had happened to y-you and...I didn't have anywhere t-to go...and I-I just hoped that-that..." but he trailed off, his empty hand rising to wipe at his nose, causing him to wince. "I'm s-sorry...I shouldn't have come. I'll leave, I'm s-sorry I bothered you," he suddenly then said turning away, but even before my mind could register what I was doing, my hand curled right around his skinny wrist and held him in place.  
  
"Wait, uh, Matthew." I didn't know what the fuck my body thought I was doing, but my brain and my emotions were torn and my body insisted I not let him go. But I couldn't; let him go that is. I'd be completely heartless and an utter thankless hypocrite if I did. But then on the flip side of the coin I didn't really know this kid from a bar of soap, that's then not even considering the way he's fucked me about the past 15 months...  
  
The pitiful way his face turned back to look up at me, poorly hidden hope lighting his eyes ever so slightly, made up my mind in the end though. I couldn't just leave him out there in the rain, without money or shelter, the kid would definitely catch his death. Dammit, at the end of the day I'm just too damn good for my own good.  
  
"Um, uh, I suppose you could, you know, stay the night at least. Can't exactly just let you wonder around out there on your own in the rain," and with that I stepped aside and opened the door wider, having finally let go of his wrist, the contact having sent weird, uneasy tingles through my skin.  
  
"A-are, are you, uh, s-sure?" he asked, clearly doing his best not to look too hopeful, as if on cue, biting down on that lip again.  
  
"Um, yes. I said you could, didn't I? Now get your scrawny arse inside before I change my mind," I said, shooting him a weak smile.  
  
So he scrambled inside, while I closed and re-locked the front door, only to turn and find the kid having barely moved inside and instead standing awkwardly by himself.  
  
"I'm completely s-soaked," he said noticing my stare. "I wouldn't want to g-get anything wet."  
  
"Um, uh, yeah... Why don't you just go stand by the heater? I can try find you something dry to wear, we may want to empty and dry your bag's contents too..." I suggested, scratching behind my head.  
  
"P-please, if you don't mind," he shivered, his teeth now actually chattering, most likely due to the sudden warm of being inside.  
  
"I don't. Just, uh, just take your wet things off so long and I'll get you those clothes."  
  
So, just like that, he nodded and dropped his bag and began to peal his drenched jacket and then shirt off, his bony back pointing my way, the vertebra painfully obvious as they poked up under his paper-pale skin. With a shaky breath I quickly left to hunt down some old clothes, which thankfully weren't too hard to find.  
  
When I returned, carrying an old pair of track pants, one of my copious band tees and a pair of boxers I figured he'd probably need too, I found Matthew shivering over the heater in just a pair of wet, black boxers, his back still turned.  
  
"Ahem," I coughed into my fist to catch his attention, the poor kid instantly spun around, arms clutching around his rail-thin body awkwardly. "I, uh, here," I said, handing him the clothes, which he gratefully took, his still chattering teeth repeatedly stuttering out "thank you".  
  
As he accepted them, I couldn't help but spot a purpling bruise around his stomach, before I got further distracted by the sight of two small, black and red star tattoos, one on the inside of each prominent hipbone, a slim trail of sparse dark hair running from his navel between them. The awkward moment came when he caught me staring, his angled cheekbones going bright pink, my own most likely mirroring them.  
  
"Um, so yeah, I'll give you a moment to change. You, uh, want some tea maybe?" I asked, breaking the silence, and again a stream of "thank you"'s came from him as I left to put the kettle on and leave him to get decent.  
  
***  
  
Before I knew it, there I was, sitting on my couch next to Matthew - of all the people in the world - the boy wearing my clothes which hung loosely off him and his hair drying in spiky puffs, as we sat sipping our tea, neither of us really watching the telly. We'd also gone and hung up all his clothes and wet bag in the bathroom and Lord knows the fright poor Tom's gonna have when he gets back to find a strange kid on our couch and all his things draped around our lav.  
  
"Um, what happened to your face? Apart from your nose obviously, if you don't mind me asking," I finally asked, unable to control my curiosity anymore, as I snuck a look at his face, the swollen and bruised side facing me.  
  
"Uh, my dad...he, uh, he...hit me," Matthew eventually answered, not turning his face away from the TV screen.  
  
"Shit, seriously?" I asked, stupidly speaking before thinking.  
  
But the kid just nodded and shrugged. "Yeah, right before he kicked me in the stomach after I'd fallen and told me I had five minutes to pack a bag and get the fuck out of his house."  
  
I must have looked like a fish as I just gaped away at him, my mouth wide open. I mean, my useless excuse for parents hadn't even resorted to physical violence and it had definitely been hard enough on me...  
  
"Jesus, I'm sorry," was all I could think to say, and he finally turned to look back at me.  
  
It was painfully obvious that he was doing his best not to cry and look unfazed by it all, as he just shrugged again. "It's fine. It's not like I was ever really happy beforehand or like their reaction was much of a surprise - granted I didn't think he'd actually hit me. They never noticed me anyway, everything was always about Ben after all, even after he moved out."  
  
"Oh...that really sucks, I'm sorry," I apologised again, yet I still wasn't even responsible. "Um, so why'd you tell them then?"  
  
"After your visit, I just got thinking...about my life and just how unhappy I was. How sick and tired I was of lying, about everything. I couldn't take it anymore. So over tea it just sort of all came tumbling out." Again came the careless shrug of detachment, yet I still wasn't buying it.  
  
After that, we then sat watching telly in silence for a while, until I decided it was time for bed. I grabbed him a pillow and a few blankets, to make his sleep on the couch a little bit better, and bid him goodnight. Tomorrow was another day, we could sort this all out then.  
  
But as I lay in bed, all the lights turned off, the unmistakable sound of him sobbing into his pillow still carried through to me in my room.  
  
What had I gotten myself into?  
  
The sound made my gut twist and turn, the whole experience striking far too close to home for my liking. Even after everything the little shit had done to me, I couldn't help that my heart gave out a pang for him. A pang for me. The both of us tossed out to the curb by the very people who were supposed to love us no matter what. Supposed to love us unconditionally.


	3. Chapter 3

  
After having barely had a wink of sleep, I roused from what little I had accomplished and stumbled through to go and make some rejuvenating coffee for myself.  
  
Everything sleep-heavy and slow, I eventually sat down at the small breakfast nook, coffee in hand. From my place I could see easily enough through the arch, which served as the door to the kitchen, into the open-plan lounge area - the TV only slightly in the way - to where Matthew had finally managed to pass out on his makeshift couch-bed. I could see that he'd neatly folded the clothes I'd lent him and put them on the nearby armchair. As for him, well all that was really visible from here, was his thick mop of jet hair, spiking forth from the blanket he'd drawn all the way up, and the top half of his face, dark lashes resting against his prominent cheekbones and nose just peaking over the covers.  
  
In sleep he really did just look like some lost kid - which I suppose he was - and I still couldn't quite believe that, after all the time I'd spent talking to 'James' he'd turned out to just be Matthew. I mean, I didn't even really know the boy on my couch and ever since I'd found out the truth, I hadn't been more angry with anyone since my family had disowned me, yet here - of all people - he was and I'd let him in under my roof and into my home.  
  
Puzzling over the irony and what the hell I was going to do now, I missed Tom's approach, until he sat down next to me with a big "oof" and promptly stole my coffee mug.  
  
"Who's the kid?" he asked after having taken a sip, as I stared at him in complete disbelief and feigned anger.  
  
"Um, Matthew," I replied with a shrug, trying to appear nonchalant about the whole affair.  
  
"Wait, isn't that the name of the bloke that..." seeing my grimace, he thankfully stopped, his suspicions confirmed. "No shit, and what, he's just sleeping on our couch because...?"  
  
"His parents threw him out on the street," I replied, stealing back my drink and tried to hide my face behind the mug as I tentatively sipped at the hot liquid.  
  
"Really? And why would they do a thing like that?" Tom asked, getting all curious, his sleep-heavy features perking up a bit.  
  
"He came out to them, and I guess they just didn't take the news very well..." I replied with a shrug, both hands cradling my steaming mug.  
  
"Whoa, déjà vu or what, no wonder you let him in...but why - of all places - did he come here? To _you_ for help, I thought you said you gave him a good piece of your mind when the whole 'James' thing blew up?" Tom pondered, looking far too contemplative for someone who'd just woken up. "Not to mention the fact that you broke his nose."  
  
"Said he had nowhere else to go here, and no money to go stay with his brother...it was the middle of the night and raining and the kid had _walked_ all the way here; I'd have been a heartless hypocrite if I'd turned him away," I explained, my eyes trailing over my mug to the sleeping kid in question, one long, pale arm now thrown over his head.  
  
"Huh, that's crazy. Who would've thought the tables would turn and you'd find yourself on the other side of things?" Tom wondered, turning to glance at Matthew over his shoulder.  
  
"Hmm, yeah, life's fucked up that way I guess, but at least I now know what he's going through, else I might still very well have closed the door in his face."  
  
"Is that a bruise on his cheek too? I thought you said you only got his nose - which is still looking pretty colourful I might add," Tom asked, turning back to face me.  
  
"His father hit him apparently, knocked him to the ground before giving him a kick too and an order to pack and march," I explained, Tom's features instantly darkening.  
  
"People are disgusting. I mean, sure he was a bastard, what with leading you on and all, but no-one deserves that."  
  
"Now you get why I let him stay."  
  
"So, what're you gonna do with him now though? He can't exactly just sleep on our couch, it's a fundamental piece of my usual daily rituals..." Tom asked, leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head as he gave a big yawn and stretched.  
  
"Well, erm, I don't know. I just kinda assumed he'd head off to stay with his brother? I mean, if I must - and if it means he'll go - I'll even pay for his trip to London, to stay with...Ben," I replied, glancing back at Matthew when I saw a sign of movement in his direction.  
  
The kid had clearly just woken, his big eyes looking rather startled as he adjusted to the unfamiliar surroundings, no doubt realising that everything had not just been a dream and that he was indeed now without a home or parents. The wave of disappointment and sadness that had evidently washed over him must have been awful, as I could quite literally see it in his features, in the way they went dead and saddened. Feeling my eyes on him however, Matthew looked up, straight at me and I couldn't help but feel my heart pang, the hurt in his eyes so clear and evident, only for him to quickly look away and slowly get up.  
  
So, deciding to give him a bit of privacy, the pale skin of his torso hard to miss as he climbed out from under the blankets only wearing the simple red-plaid boxers I'd lent him, blurs of some more ink work evident, I turned back to Tom, who'd begun to blabber on about his date with Angie the previous night.  
  
"...so then she thought we should do dessert back at hers - if you know what I mean - and you won't believe what..."  
  
It was selfish and I knew it, but I couldn't help just zoning out again. I wished I had someone with whom I could have 'dessert' with again, and I'd been so close to it too. Cruelly close, only for it to turn out that my match was not who he said he was. He didn't exist. Never had. Instead now, I had Matthew shyly walking into the kitchen, dressed in the overly large clothing I'd lent him, which only seemed to emphasise his vulnerable youth and skinny frame.  
  
I'd been such a fool.  
  
"Um, uh, morning," he mumbled nervously, standing awkwardly in the archway which led to the kitchen.  
  
"Morning," Tom greeted, having evidently finished his story at some point, his eyes clearly taking in the fact that Matthew was most definitely wearing my clothes.  
  
"Uh, Tom, this is Matthew. Matthew, this is Tom, my best friend and housemate," I introduced them and they nodded at each other. After I'd motioned for the kid to sit down, I turned to explain myself to Mr Kirk's questioning look in my direction. "His clothes all got soaked in the rain last night, so I just lent him some of mine. His should be busy drying as we speak. Right, Matthew?"  
  
"Um, uh, yeah," he nodded, his black hair messy and sticking up in the air from when he'd pulled the hoodie on, giving him the appearance of a sleepy hedgehog.  
  
"Oh, yeah. That would definitely explain all the clothes hanging up in the bathroom," Tom laughed, always the one to try and keep the mood up. "You certainly seem to like dark clothes then, Matthew," he added, as he got up to go and make some toast.  
  
"Uh, yeah, sure," was the kid's only reply, his gaze having briefly glanced up at Tom, but now focused on the surface of the small table we were sitting at.  
  
"Cool, cool. So, you want some toast then?" Tom offered, holding up the new loaf of bread I'd bought just yesterday. "I was just about to make Dom and myself some."  
  
At this, Matthew nervously shot me a look, his expression one of uncertainty, as if asking for my permission. I just simply shrugged and he nodded at Tom. "Y-yes, please. Thank you."  
  
"No problem, want something to drink too: coffee, tea, juice, milk, water?" Tom continued playing the good host, while I just sat there, watching their interaction carefully.  
  
"Er, tea, please?" Matthew asked, despite Tom having nodded the kid still glanced up at me uncertainly. I just shrugged and nodded again. Matthew then went back to staring at the tabletop, his long, bony fingers coming up to play with one of the strings of the hoodie.  
  
When the toast was finally finished and I'd put all the spreads on the table, we all ate, while Tom went on about something or other, neither Matthew nor I were paying too much attention though.  
  
                                        

                                                                  ***

After breakfast Matthew attempted to help with the dishes, but Tom insisted on doing them himself - something I couldn't help notice was very strange, especially considering the way Tom had only recently been going on about 'that kid that fucked you around' and now he was suddenly doting on him now that they'd met.

I have a suspicion that, considering the way Tom keeps looking at him and treating him, he feels Matthew is a lot like I was and that seeing as he's connected us like that in his mind, he can't help himself for wanting to look out for the kid, like he and his family had for me all those years ago.

So, while Tom washed dishes and I left Matthew to it, the kid excused himself to go and call Ben and see if he could maybe now help him out. Tom then sang loudly and off tune to himself as he scrubbed away and I got up to go and check whether Matthew's stuff had dried, trying to stay out of the way. I naturally therefore couldn't help it if I could hear bits of Matthew's end of the conversation...

"B-Ben?...yeah-yeah, i-it's me, I...uh...ah-huh...b-but..." His voice was all nervous and scared, instantly reminding me of the way he'd spoken to me when I'd first met him and caught him out. "I understand but what you don't...yes, well what happened to...oh come on, Ben...what?!..." But as he continued to speak, his tone and voice changed from that pitiful whine, to a much more annoyed and sure stream of words. "You can't be serious!...but, I-I'm your brother!...So? What does any of that matter...honestly?!..." As I stood there shamelessly listening in now, I could hear Matthew losing his temper and quite frankly could hear shouting through the other side of the line even, as the two brothers had it out on one another. Feeling rather creepy and nosey, I scuttled off, just as I could hear the kid's voice breaking in what could only be the start of some crazy waterworks, as he continued to shout and plead with his brother.

After checking that yes, his things were nearly all dry, I tried to sneak past the lounge to the kitchen as discreetly as possible, but it was no use. Dammit, why do I always have to be such a nice guy? It's like I can't help myself...

Matthew had clearly thrown his phone aside, and was now slumped on the couch, furiously rubbing at his eyes with the sleeves of the grey hoodie.

"Uh, um, you okay, Matthew?" I asked, having approached a little closer.

"Uh, y-yeah. Um, I'll be fine. Ben says he'll wire through some cash for me, I just can't go near his or stay with him. 'Cause yeah, our relationship as brothers is apparently only worth a couple quid," he answered, looking up at me now, his eyes still shiny from the tears that had clearly escaped, and were quickly becoming red-rimmed.

"Oh, uh, sorry?" I replied awkwardly, not exactly sure what to do or say.

He clearly misunderstood something in my face though as he hurriedly continued with, "B-but, don't worry. This isn't your problem; I've already imposed my presence more than I had any right to. I'll just gather my things and be out of your hair. Thank you so much for letting me stay the night though, Dominic. Even after what I did to you." And with that he scrambled to his feet, to go get his stuff in the bathroom no doubt.

I don't exactly know what in God's good earth came over me, so don't even bother asking, but the next thing I knew, I'd grabbed hold of his bony wrist as he tried to exit. Déjà vu, a habit we seem to be developing. His big, watery, blue eyes flashed up at me, startled and surprised, my fingers having easily wrapped around the skinny joint.

"Matthew..." Shit, I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know what my body was playing at. Instead I was left staring down at the kid, his eyes confused yet...hopeful?

"Y-yes?"

"Um, er-"

"Don't go, Matthew. You can stay with us till you get back on your feet, we can hardly just toss you out on the street," Tom said suddenly, breaking off my awkward mind freeze, and the both of us looked up to see him leaning against the archway into the kitchen. "I'm sure Dom won't mind either, after all he knows better than I even do about what you're currently going through."

Thanks for that Tom.

"R-really, you're sure?" Matthew asked in disbelief, wide eyes looking from Tom to me. "Surely you don't want me here..."

"No, no, it's fine. Plus we have a stretcher from a couple years back when Dom and I went camping; we could set up a bed for you in the study?" Tom suggested, oh so helpfully.

"Uh, um," the kid faltered, looking back at me uncertainly. "W-would that really be okay with you, Dom-Dominic? I really d-don't want to stay if you're n-not okay with it..."

Shit. Fucking, shit fuck. Thanks a lot Tom bloody Kirk!

"Uh, sure, whatever. Stay. Like Tom said; I know what you're going through. I can hardly be a hypocrite now, just because our meeting was because of less than desirable reasons," I shrugged in reply, doing my best attempt at nonchalance. "As long as you stay out of my way, whatever."

I mean, what did I really care? He was just a kid that, at the end of the day, had been ostracised by his whole family, much like I had been, the least I could do was come out as the just man and let him stay. Right?

It didn't mean all was forgiven though - by no means - he better stay out of my hair.


	4. Chapter 4

  
"Well, he certainly doesn't talk much," Angie said, looking out the window to where Matthew stood smoking in our little courtyard.

After meeting her for the first time, Matthew had shyly, albeit politely, introduced himself, before excusing himself to go have a smoke. The past week or so that's what he seemed to do. He'd be around and offer to help Tom and I out, and he never made a mess, but most of the time he'd just keep to himself, preferably by smoking in the courtyard, if he wasn't cooped up in his borrowed room. He definitely didn't speak much anymore, especially not to me, doing his best to stay out of my way, though every now and then I'd catch him staring.

I wish I could say this still angered me, but everything about the kid just screamed sinking depression and I couldn't find it in me to be mad. If anything, the urge to want to help him was there more, but there was nothing I could really do. It was only natural for him to feel this way, he had after all just undergone some serious life changes.

"Um, yeah, not exactly," Tom agreed. "He'll thank us whenever he get's the chance, otherwise he's definitely more on the solitary side. Haven't really managed to get much out of him since he arrived."

"Huh, well considering everything you've told me, it's hardly much wonder," Angie said, turning back around to face us again, where we sat around the kitchenette drinking a pot of tea, before the two headed out on their Friday night date. "Some people should just not be allowed to have children, I swear."

"Definitely, I mean..." Tom began, his voice taking on that epic opinion tone he sometimes gets, which usually - like now - just makes me zone out.

Instead, I sat stirring my tea idly while I watched Matthew. He was straddling one of the two chairs at our little garden table allowing me a sideways view of him. His sharp elbows were resting on the backrest, while he leisurely took a drag, before watching the thin spiral of smoke as he slowly breathed it out, lost in his thoughts, the cigarette left hanging limply in between long, bony fingers. When the plume completely vanished, he repeated the action, the sight of the twisting smoke capturing his bored interest.

His expression looked dead and cut-off, his features set in an emotionless mask, much the look I'd now come to associate with the kid, now that he no longer looked pitifully grateful or apologetic the entire time.

Before I was about to turn back to once more engage in conversation with the two lovebirds before they headed off, Matthew suddenly looked away from his tendrils of smoke and straight into my eyes, as if he'd sensed my staring. The sudden shock of blue made me start and I spilt some tea on myself, Tom's ensuing teasing forcing me to not look back at the kid, while I instead made up some or other excuse for why I'd made a mess.

"Well then, I guess we best be off now if we don't wanna miss the film," Angie said, checking her watch and standing up.

"Uh, yeah, don't wanna miss it now do we, love?" Tom agreed, standing up too, before gifting her with a kiss and prompting me to look away. And coincidentally back into the courtyard, only to see that Matthew was no longer looking at me and had put out his fag. "Well then, Dom, I guess we'll be off now," Tom then said, gaining back my attention and soon I was watching Tom help Angie into her coat and then helping them out and closing the front door.

When I turned around and headed over to clear the table, I saw that Matthew was no longer outside and thought he'd gone back to lock himself in his room for the rest of the evening, like he usually did and had done the whole of last friday. Instead though, as I finished off rinsing the cups and went to settle down in front of the TV to do my usual Friday night activity of flipping through channels, I looked up from the TV to see his skinny form standing awkwardly by the couch.

"Uh, would you mind if I joined you?" he asked, standing there in his overly-large, grey knit jersey which hung loosely off his shoulders. His left arm held onto the right and in so doing pulled the jersey down a bit, helping to reveal a prominent collarbone, highlighted by some inked lettering, of which part was covered and I couldn't quite make out what the slender tattoo said.

"Er, yeah, sure," I said, surprised by his sudden desire to be somewhat social all of a sudden, and moved up a bit to make room.

"Thanks," he smiled weakly, before sitting down, tucking his black skinny jean-clad legs and socked feet beneath him. "So, what're you watching?"

"Uh, um, nothing much, was just channel surfing," I replied with an indifferent shrug, but my eyes kept drifting to the swell of that collarbone, the damn tattoo acting like an anchoring point. So what, he had a slim build, of course his bones would be sharp and pointy... Why can't I look away though?

Here's something about me, I guess you could say I - like most people - have certain trigger areas that I find incredibly sexy about people; namely hipbones and collarbones, why? I don't know, perhaps the definition and delicate appearance gets me going, either way I certainly shouldn't be thinking about shit like that with Matthew. He's only a fucking kid after all! I'm no cradle snatcher, but then why did both areas just so happen to be specifically marked so tantalisingly on his body?

'Tantalisingly'?! Jesus, Dom, get a grip here. Bloody hell. The whole thought made me shiver and shake my head. Yuck, relax.

We then just sat watching some arbitrary nature documentary, both as possibly far apart on either end of the sofa, me trying my best to avoid my sudden creepy desire to sneak a peak at the exposed area of skin and the inked lettering which was visible, and him solely focused on the TV screen and the stampeding buffalo on it.

When, unable to deny a snuck glance his way and I was caught, I coughed and scratched the back of my neck, while he raised a single dark brow in question.

"Um, your, er, tattoos, I couldn't help notice you seem to have a few," I began awkwardly, indicating toward the presently visible and distracting piece of body art in question, making him look downwards at it self-consciously. "When did you get them, 'cause aren't you like, I don't know, a bit young?"

At that, both dark eyebrows rose and he attempted to pull up the neck of the worn jersey higher, trying to hide the skin he clearly hadn't really realised was on display.

"I'm not really that young you know, plus I'm friendly with a pretty good artist. He went to school with Ben," he defended himself, with a nonchalant shrug. "But why do you even care?"

"I don't care, why would I? I just wondered is all," was the first thing that came out of my mouth, only for me to realise the error in my choice of words as he cringed slightly.

"Well yeah, I have a few tattoos, so what?" he said, bringing up a hand, most of it covered by the stretched, old jersey sleeve, leaving only his fingers to really poke out, and ran it through his black fringe.

"Fair enough, I was just wondering," I said with a shrug. "I mean, so your parents aren't happy with you being gay, but you can have tons of tattoos and they're fine?" As soon as I said the words I realised I'd made yet another faux pas. I mean come on, Dom, why else do you think he got the fucking things in the first place?

"Huh, yeah. Their priorities are skewed, for sure," came his soft reply, before he pushed himself up to stand. "Um, I'm just gonna head off to bed now. I'm... feeling a bit tired."

"Uh, you sure, I was just about to go and make something for tea. You're not hungry?" I asked, getting up myself now.

"Nah, I'm okay, thanks," he replied, pulling up the neck of his sweater again, obviously now rather self-conscious about the damn tattoo. Nice one Dom.

It also wasn't too unusual for him not to eat either, he barely ever ate, if ever. It was little wonder he was the size he was, but there was nothing for it, I was hardly about to force feed the kid.

So, just like that, I watched him shuffle off to his room and went over to find some leftovers or something to heat up for myself. Most likely Tom would stay the night at Angie's, meaning I'd end up having the place to myself seeing as Matthew would probably only come out for the occasional smoke break.

A mediocre at best meal and a few episodes of Q.I. later, and I was seriously feeling bored and sorry for myself, so when I heard the creek of a door and soon saw a streak of grey and black pass my peripheral on his way out for a smoke, I found myself getting up to go and join him outside.

It was now completely dark outside, except for the dull moon hiding behind a few clouds and the filtering light coming from the house's windows, so the bright orange from the end of his cigarette stood out clearly, drawing my eyes straight toward him.

"Uh, hey, mind if I join you out here?" I asked, awkwardly taking the seat opposite the one he was straddling again.

"Sure, whatever. It is your house after all, I can hardly say no, can I?" he replied, a slight smirk pricking at his sharp lips. A good sign perhaps? It definitely was the closest to a smile I'd seen from him since we'd said he should stay with us.

"True, true," I agreed, thankful for the change in his mood since I'd last spoken to him. His mood also wasn't all that had changed, he'd shed the large jersey and instead now just wore an equally tired looking, old long sleeve. The evening air definitely had a chill to it and I was feeling it through my thick sweater, plus I wasn't as thin as wire, so couldn't help wondering if he wasn't cold. Choosing to ignore it though, not wanting something similar to earlier happening again, I instead asked for a smoke.

"I didn't know you smoked, thought you said you gave it up?" he asked, but handed me his practically empty box of cigarettes anyway.

I was slightly surprised that he remembered this, but then I guess 'James' had always been a good listener. "Uh, yeah. Started again though, after... well, yeah," I said with a shrug and I could swear I saw a flash of guilt cross his face.

"I'm sorry, sheesh, I'm such a fuck up, and I only brought it to you," he apologised, burying his face between his hands, cigarette precariously balanced between two lone fingers which weren't spread out, but rather held out a bit further. "Ugh, I'm so sorry - like I know I've said it - but I should never have led you on like I did."

"Here, it's okay. I'm... I'll be fine," I replied not sounding too sure though, but the proximity of his lit smoke and that thick mop of black hair was worrying me rather a bit.

"I'm an awful person, I'm so sorry," he groaned into his hands, the sudden mood flip startling, all after I'd only asked for a cigarette. Well done yet again, Dom.

The smouldering cigarette butt though, was really getting close now and before I even realised I was doing it, I found myself yet again grasping a bony wrist in my hand, as I held the hand with the cigarette away from his raven hair.

Instantly his left hand dropped away too and he looked down at where I was still tightly holding onto his thin wrist. I don't know why, but I didn't let go, at least not straight away. His skin was cold, yet sent a strange wave of tingling through me... Kind of like osmosis, but without the exchange of water perhaps. Either way, it was a completely bizarre feeling and I only broke away when two blue spheres looked up at me, completely unreadable.

"Erm, uh, your hair. Didn't want you setting it alight," I hastily defended myself with an attempt at a nonchalant shrug. Jesus, Dom. Catch a grip, stop spazzing for no reason.

"Um, thanks," he replied, his stare softening noticeably as well as a light tinge of pink spreading along his high cheekbones. "That would definitely suck more than a lot. See, complete fuck up."

I just swallowed awkwardly at that and rubbed my thighs, before gratefully remembering the distraction of my still unlit cigarette. "Uh, do you have a lighter too then, you know, for the cigarette?"

"Oh, yeah sure, sorry," he rushed, patting down his pockets where he sat, cigarette now dangling between his lips, before he produced a silver Zippo lighter. "Here."

I took the offered lighter and lit up, before handing it back and taking a long, much deserved, drag. " _Fuuuuck_ ," I couldn't help groan, my near constant craving finally being satiated.

Feeling his stare, I managed to tear my gaze away from the stream of smoke I'd just released, to see that he was indeed staring at me. His blue eyes, having gone even darker than their usual look whenever I caught sight of them. When he didn't immediately look away like he usually did whenever I caught him staring, I narrowed my own eyes and he thankfully looked down, his sharp cheekbones slightly flushed.

" _So_..." I began, before taking another drag, prompting him to look up at me again, but far more appropriately this time. "Why did you do it, really, I mean?" When his expression remained questioning, I sighed, exhaling in the process. "The whole fake profile thing?"

At this, I saw him noticeably swallow, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing, before taking a fairly shaky pull on his own cigarette. When I started to think he'd never answer me, he finally looked back up at me, biting that bottom lip of his. "I, well, I guess I was... lonely?"

"'Lonely'?" I scoffed incredulously.

"Yes, lonely," he shot back, instantly on the defensive. "I don't have a lot of friends - well actually as good as none - and as I may already have said, Ben was always my parents' favourite, they never really ever showed any interest in me. But then why should they? When no-one else ever really cared to notice me. So yeah, lonely. I made the account because I was lonely, alright?"

I just shrugged back, indicating he should further elaborate his explanation, the both of us taking a long inhale before he exhaled and continued, as if seeking some form of support from the cigarette.

"Well, at first I wasn't really very serious, just talking to random people who added me - I'd chosen to use Ben's pictures and info to see if more people would 'friend' me than on my real account. Naturally they did. And then, one day, I get this really flirty invite and, curious, I accepted the 'friend request' and checked out the person. Now I'd known I was gay for quite a while - years in fact - but I'd never told anyone and I'd certainly never been approached by another bloke before, so the whole thing completely caught my interest. Also the fact that the guy was fucking gorgeous and way out of my league didn't hurt either. But then you should already know that, because I immediately replied and so started a practically never ending conversation with the hot blond that had chosen to add me, out of millions, to talk to."

Shit, yeah. That's how it had started. It had been a couple nights after I'd caught Damien cheating and had an admittedly ugly break up. I'd been drunk and pottering about on Facebook to pass the time and distract myself from the painful present, when a friend suggestion had come up. James Bellamy. His profile picture had been gorgeous and I'd been drunk enough to do something I'd usually never do; sending that flirty request to someone I'd never even met in my life, and right after having had my heart completely shattered.

Of course when he'd quickly accepted, before replying and commenting and complementing my looks - exactly what I'd needed at that point in time - I'd been hooked. And when I'd woken the next day to find out that I'd sent him the most embarrassing messages, telling him all about the shit with Damien, to see that he'd stayed up all night to comfort and console me - a complete stranger - I guess I'd never stood a chance. He'd been so sweet and funny and had turned out to be my saving grace, helping pull all my pieces back together and in the process claiming my heart.

I'd spent hours going over his pictures, again and again, searching through his albums, all the while thinking that the rugged, handsome man before me had been James, my saviour, but of course it hadn't been. Instead it had been the man in the picture's skinny, awkward, teen brother, reaching out for some form of acceptance himself, all the while.

"And then, well, I guess I became addicted; to our conversations, to your jokes and hearing about your life and all the troubles you'd overcome to become the success you are today: you were my hope. My inspiration. That, well, I guess I couldn't let all that go and - as you now obviously know - I just ended up getting caught up in my web of lies. I honestly never meant to hurt you, Dom-- Dominic. That was the last thing I ever meant to do," he finally finished, his eyes boring into mine, their striking blue having become somewhat shiny, the kid trying to hold himself together and that emotionless mask in place.

I just shrugged and stumped out the butt of my cigarette, before standing.

"Well, either way, that's exactly what you ended up doing. You hurt me, Matthew. More so than even Damien. At least he'd never lied about who he was, I'd just chosen to think I could change him. You though, you lied to me from the start; about everything. You made me doubt so much about myself, about my life and how I view the world. So, no matter what, even if the circumstances were different, if you were older or whatever, I don't think I'd ever be able to forgive you and work something out. Just because your family rejected you and Tom and I took you in, doesn't mean I've forgiven you. And you can definitely forget about anything _ever_ happening between us; I've seen you staring and that look in your eyes. If you have any touch in reality, you'll move the fuck on. Just because your lies caught up to you and Mummy and Daddy don't love you, doesn't give you any right to feel sorry for yourself. It's up to you to change things and make your own life better. At some point you've just got to grow up. I should know, after all I did." At this he just stared back at me, mouth agape and with the first proper emotion I'd seen on his face since we'd offered him a place to stay, as he scrambled to his own feet. "'Cause what you're doing now, all this hiding in your room, only coming out to smoke, and the self-pity, it's doing no-one any good. If anything, you're just making yourself even more pathetic. If you really are so lonely, why don't you actually make an effort and go out and find friends? That's how life works, Matthew. You have to work at it, some of us just harder than others."

I didn't know where that had all come from, I think I must have been looking back at him, just as shocked, everything just having tumbled straight out my gob. Perhaps I was just annoyed with him. In fact I was. After everything, I guess it really had just been too soon, I mean I'd hardly really had anytime to recover from the shock of having James ripped from my life, only to have Matthew bombard into it. It was only natural, my reaction.

"S-so, do-do you want me to pack and leave?" he asked, eyes blown wide, his cigarette long since finished and his hands now awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of his loose top. "'C-cause I will, I don't want to be s-such a-"

I just sighed, rather irritated now. I'd meant to root him back in reality and inspire something in him, not just reignite his ridiculous, abused puppy state, stuttering and all. Where was the passion, where was his drive?! Sure he'd clearly come from a neglectful background that had only also then just gone and tossed him aside, but that was not really a good nough excuse. If anything he should want to prove them all the more wrong! When my parents had kicked me out, I'd been filled with anger and desire to show them I didn't need them.

Instead, Matthew has just been all remorseful and down right pitiful. When he's not just completely cut off from everything, isolating himself in his own little world that is. The kid has no drive. No spirit.

"No, Matthew. We've already said you should stay, I'm hardly about to turf you out now. All I'm saying is that you need to fix your own life and stop hiding away from it all, you also need to learn to move on. Stop staring at me when you think I'm not looking, it's _never_ gonna happen. Meet new people, people closer to your own age. Find someone else. I'm after all far from being the only other gay bloke around here." My voice easily gave away my frustration and quickly worsening mood, so before anything more could be said, I bid him goodnight and went to bed early, leaving him staring after me completely dumbstruck.

I don't know what it is about the kid, but he really rubs me up the wrong way; and naturally our past, of course, helps to only magnify this.

I honestly need to get out of the house more. Look, I know I said I'd give dating a break, but I'm actually starting to think it's what I need. I need to get over the whole 'James' issue, especially seeing as it doesn't look like Matthew will be leaving anytime soon.


	5. Chapter 5

  
It had been a few weeks or so since my talk with Matthew and in the meantime, actually having followed some of my advice, he'd gone and gotten himself work as a waiter at a nearby restaurant. 

And if I'd thought he'd been trying to stay out of my hair before? Well, now he never really seems to be in the same room as me ever, except for when the three of us have meals together. Meals where he still barely touches anything on his plate, mind. The kid eats like a bird at the best of times, only picking at his food... But then, as I've said before, he's not my problem.

At least in that sense. On the other side of the coin? Yeah, he's exactly the cause of this latest set of issues I'm faced with. On the plus side, I have gone on a date or two too, which, although all ending to be a bit of a waste of time, are slowly helping to build my confidence up again. I've never had a hard time getting dates, I'm not stupid and have a fairly decent sense of humour and - not to sound too conceited - but I'm not a bad looking bloke either. Either way, finding men has never been the issue, before I'd just been so involved with the idea of James, that I'd just pushed that all aside. Now though? I finally feel free once more. Left to make up for lost time.

Of course I've also made no secret of my dates, Tom is always only too eager to encourage it and cheer me on, but Matthew? Well, he may be trying to avoid me, but I've been unable not to notice how, on those nights, he always seems to have work. Convenient really.

He still keeps locked up in his room of course, when he's not at work or having a quick cigarette outside. Quite frankly, though, I suspect he's taken up smoking out his bedroom window now too, to limit the amount of time he has to be around me. Though, he does go out actually, seemingly having made some acquaintances in the very least, with a couple of the other people he works with, so that's an added bonus. The faster he moves on and starts embracing his independence once more, the faster I can see the back of him.

Tom and Angie have of course only been getting closer and I suspect it's only a matter of time before they move in together, which of course will only mean I'll be left alone with the kid. Matthew's offered to help pay a sort of rent, but Tom refused, saying he couldn't have the kid pay. Matthew had then of course gone and insisted, so in the end the two have agreed on him giving some of his newly earned cash toward groceries - despite the fact that the kid barely eats anyway. It's not a lot, but I guess it makes him feel a little bit better about staying here.

As far as I'm concerned, I just stay out of all things to do with him. I'm not interested at all.

Tonight was a Friday, and instead of the usual sitting and moping about, I had one of those dates again. This evening's was to be with a fairly decent looking bloke called Angus. Yeah, kid you not, but I've been taught not to judge people by their names. Besides, he'd seemed nice enough when he'd given me his number after I ran straight into him with my shopping trolley the other day at Tesco.

So, hair neatly styled and a pair of my favourite tight jeans - a grey leopard print pair I'd recently acquired - on and I was looking hot. The only problem was that Angus was nowhere to be seen.

I checked my watch again. 36 minutes. Well that's not _too_ bad, right? Cut the bloke some slack, Howard, he may be stuck in traffic. Traffic, in this town? Right...

Sometime later, when the waiter came to ask if I was sure I still didn't want to order something in the meantime, I couldn't help but let my thoughts drift towards Matthew, who I'd seen leave the house earlier this afternoon in a near identical, standard-style waiter uniform The little shit hadn't even said a word in my direction as he'd left. He avoided me for sure and barely even spoke to Tom lately. Moody teenager.

I shook my head, deciding to give _Angus_ another 15 minutes, if he was later, then, well, it certainly would serve him right for not sending me a message to excuse his tardiness.

Speak of the devil though, just then my mobile buzzed and, checking it, I saw that I had a new message from the man in question himself.

He wasn't going to be able to make it. 'Family emergency'. Sorry. He'd try make it up to me.

Yeah, well, sorry, Angus, I don't wait around, I've learnt the hard way that that's the wrong thing to do. It's too easy to get hurt, especially if he can't even succeed in getting the first date right, also, I couldn't ignore the fact that he hadn't even bothered to call. No. Goodbye, Angus, I thought with a roll of my eyes as I deleted his number off my contacts list.

So, thoroughly annoyed, all dressed up and with nowhere to go, I left the restaurant, tipping the waiter anyway for being patient with me the whole time, before beginning the long walk home. I didn't have a car and taxi fare was unnecessarily steep for such a small town, but perhaps that was the issue with being in a small coastal town that attracted lots of holiday goers in the summer. The prices just remained high all year round, so the locals - like myself - were the ones that ended up mainly being swindled.

Typically it then began to drizzle, before it started to rain in ernest, and my feet were aching by the time I got back home.

To say I was in a bit of a foul mood would have been an understatement, to say the least.

Grumbling, I hung up my drenched coat and went to go turn the kettle on, hoping that a spot of tea would help warm me up and improve my mood. I was busy getting said tea's components out, when I heard the front door burst open. Checking the kitchen clock, it made sense that Matthew would be returning about now; in fact, if anything, he was quite a bit late. The walk had taken me an hour and that was after having gone to a late dinner, which turned into a later dinner, before a nonexistent dinner.

Sighing, I heard him scuffling about, making a ton of noise, most likely assuming I was still out and knowing Tom was at Angie's.

"...for fuck's sake, who left their fucking shoes in the middle of the goddamn doorway? Ooh, of course, _Dominic_..."

Oh, yeah. I'd had an issue with 'which pair of shoes to wear' before going, fat lot of difference it made in the end though. Either way, I'd changed into my trusty converse last minute, literally leaving my boots in the doorway as I'd left.

"...he's just too fucking good for anyone. Fuck you, Matthew, you're only good for picking up my shoes, you useless, waste of space with no idea of how to start a social life..."

Listening to Matthew prattle and swear away to himself, I briefly wondered if I should be even more worried by his mental state, let alone his clearly negative attitude towards me, but his little rant only seemed to piss me off even more.

When he eventually stumbled into the kitchen, the look on his face was almost comical. If I hadn't already been in an absolutely dreadful mood, I may have even laughed, but as it was, his attitude just seemed to grate me up the wrong way even further. His face was, after all, the last I wanted to see when thinking about how shit I felt about my life at the moment; the awful 'date' an extension of what he'd done to me.

"D-Dominic?!" he squeaked. "I-I'm s-sorry, I didn't know you were home."

I just kept my arms folded and glowered at him. He looked a mess and his earlier outburst suddenly made more sense, as he stumbled over himself.

He was drunk.

Struggling to stand straight in fact, leaning partly on the door frame, a light pinkish tinge spread over his cheeks, hair still damp from the rain and white shirt messy and untucked, pasted to his skinny frame by the rain. I could also practically smell the booze and smokes on him all the way from where I stood.

"You're drunk," was all I said in reply, my voice cold and stern.

At this his dark eyebrows drew together in a frown, his mind clearly working through its inebriated state.

"So? What do you care?! It's not like I'm underage, you keep treating me like a naughty child! Well I'm not, I'm my own man and can fucking well get drunk if I want to!! When are you going to realise that I'm not some little kid?!"

His sudden flip and burst of anger took me a bit by surprise, as I'd never really been exposed to this side of him.

"Well, getting pissed off your face is hardly the way to prove yourself, you stupid boy," I pointed out, his unprovoked attack sparking my already touchy mood.

"'Stupid boy'?! Who the fuck do you think you are?! You're not my father, so stop always being so fucking condescending!" he spat back, not a stutter to be heard, though there was an admitted slur to a few of his words. Alcohol was clearly proving to give him some sort of backbone, pity he was misplacing his sudden spark of life; much like he had his romantic interest.

"That's right, I most bloody well am not! _I_ let you in under my roof; in case you've forgotten, your old man disowned you and kicked your scrawny, ungrateful arse out!" I don't know what made me say those words, but they just seemed to break free. "So excuse me for showing some concern!" I then hastily added when I saw his eyes begin to glisten a bit. I wasn't a bad person, there was just... Ugh, there was just something about the kid that drove me too far every time.

When the words had left my mouth, I was further caught by surprise, by how quickly his mood could actually flip; his anger having returned in full force.

"'Concern'?! Are you fucking kidding me?! You don't give a shit about me and you've tried to make that as clear as possible, every opportunity you get! Fuck you, Dominic! Fuck you!! Why can't you understand that I fucking love you?! I don't want your 'concern'; I want _YOU!!_ " he spat back, his eyes mad and thin chest rising and falling rapidly with the state he'd managed to work himself into.

"' _Love me_ '?! Oh for fuck's sake, Matthew! I've already told you; there's no way you even understand the meaning of the word! So don't you dare even insult me like that!!" I shouted back, my temper having now well and truly flipped its shit.

"But I do!! You can't tell me what I do and don't feel!!" He was positively screaming now, the tendons of his neck standing up and blue eyes wide open and blazing. "So shut the fuck up! I love you!! I know I do and you can't take that away from me!!"

"Oh please, you just want me to fuck you. I've seen the way you stare, caught those snuck glances; it's so obvious and pathetic," I growled, suddenly moving closer to him. "You just want to have a go, right?! That's what you thought all along, it's the reason why you kept up the charade for so long. It wasn't because you were 'lonely' and it certainly isn't because you 'fell in love'."

"T-that's not true," he stuttered, his drunken state not enough to prevent his nervous tick this time. "I l-love you, r-regardless of anything p-physical."

"Oh come on now, Matthew. You're a teenage boy, I was one once too, I know how you operate. Sex is always at the forefront," I sneered, close enough now that I could reach out and stroke my hand down the side of his face. The action of course had the expected affect, the hormone riddled kid shuddering at my touch, despite our current argument. "Point proven," I whispered, leaning forward, into his ear.

Like clockwork, his body instinctively leaned closer, wanting more.

"Admit it, Matthew. It's about sex too, isn't it? I bet you spent countless nights lying there, touching yourself and thinking about me. The fact that we're now living under the same roof, actually breathing the same air? It must - and so obviously does - drive you crazy," I continued to drawl, my voice seemingly having taken on a dark, seductive tone all on its own. And then, I don't for the life of me know what made me did it, but without thinking I groped him through his tight, black skinnies to further punctuate and get my point across.

I couldn't help but laugh at the way he whimpered in response, his hips instinctively moving forward, seeking more pressure, as I could easily feel the unmistakable hardening of his material-clad cock.

"And now, do you not believe I've made my point very clearly? I'm so obviously right, you poor horny, little boy," I scoffed, as I immediately pulled my hand back, turning away from him with an admittedly smug look spread on my face.

"Not true, if anything, all you've managed to prove is that you're out of practise and are a needlessly arrogant son of a bitch, who's too scared to do anything about it," he growled, the sudden return of his cocky, hellfire attitude surprising me, while both angering me intensely and bringing out the worst of my pride. It had taken such a hit thanks to the little shit, that his current approach was just begging for some final, true and proper reparation.

"What did you just call me, you cheeky little--"

"Oh, you heard me!!" he shot back, interrupting me, a mad kind of look in his blue eyes, as I turned around and responded to his taunting.

"You are such an ungrateful, rude fucking--"

"Well why don't you do something about it then, prove me wrong?" he challenged, boldly stepping up to me and squaring his skinny shoulders. "Show me that you're not a coward."

At this point I just absolutely lost it, all thoughts of consequences and thinking through my actions completely flying out the window. Raw emotion, anger and hurt, was all I could grasp at, as I reached out and suddenly grabbed a skinny arm and yanked him closer, so that I could shove him forward at one of the kitchen counters. The feel of his skin through the thin cloth of his damp shirt sent sparks up my arm, the atmosphere instantly ghosting into something completely different. Something foreign and taboo.

"Fine. You're so desperate for me to fuck you, then I will!!" I yelled, as I shoved his torso flat on the granite surface and then began to hastily undo his belt and trousers.

"Who says I'm even still interested? Fuck off, you old has-been!" he shouted, but made no move against me as I then yanked his trousers and dark grey boxers down to his knees in one harsh pull; my anger dictating my moves.

"Your rock-hard erection does, you insolent little--" But when I briefly gripped the hard length in question, his whole body shuddered, his hips bucking forward, in response and a loud groan actually fell from the kid's lips. The almost violent reaction from his overly sensitive body, stopped me in my tracks briefly and I immediately withdrew my hand, to instead grab hold of one of his sharp hipbones. "Fuck, you're a complete slut," I spat, my eyes drifting lower on instinct; taking in the newly revealed flesh of his arse. I couldn't help thinking just how smooth and soft the firm, pale skin looked and the thought of dragging my teeth over it and marring its spotless state, shortly flashed through my mind's eye; much to my own confusion in this worked up state.

"Coming from you, that's rich," he snapped, before shoving his arse back at me. "So what, are you just gonna stand there and stare at my arse all night? Definitely out of practise."

The alcohol coursing though his veins was clearly still doing its job, helping reveal this completely new side to the kid that had always seemed so painfully shy and awkward.

"Shut the fuck up, I don't want to hear another word out of you!" I growled, slamming his upper half into the counter again to prove that I was dead serious. When he didn't make another cheeky reply, I figured he'd finally gotten the level of rage and anger I was currently experiencing. That, or the desperate little git was afraid that sense would finally come to me and I wouldn't follow through with my threat after all.

Luckily - or arguably not - he had nothing to worry about, as I'd been worked up to such a state, that it felt like none of this was really real and I was just watching everything unfold; as if it were a movie of someone else's life. Such a thing is always a dangerous state to be in.

I dug in my pocket for the condom I'd put there earlier, in case my planned date had gone really well (one's got to be prepared for these things after all), and put the foil between my teeth as I began to work my own belt and trousers now. At the sound, he - despite having his face pressed sideways into the granite counter - risked trying to angle himself for a look, but I just kicked out one of his feet further, spreading his legs more and prompting him to turn back to cling more to the counter for support.

Once I'd freed myself, I didn't bother pulling my own trousers too far down my thighs, before I ripped open the wrapper and pulled on the condom.

At this point I could practically feel my heart thudding away wildly in my chest, as I shoved aside the last of the niggling thoughts trying to get some sense to reach me. There was just no stopping me, as then, before they could succeed or Matthew could snark again about me being out of practise or taking too long; I chose to show him that I was anything but, and thrust hard, straight into the impossibly tight vice of his slim body.

Unprepared, it came as little surprise that he cried out loudly, the scream dying off in a pained and broken whimper as I immediately began to establish a good, fast paced rhythm. The impossibly tight heat of him was sending my head spinning in a turmoil of mixed sensations and emotions, but I knew I couldn't let any of that on.

"That too much for you? Still think I'm out of practise?" I sneered, my fingers digging into his sharp hipbones.

"'S not...nearly...enough!" he still managed to pant out between his clenched teeth.

"Oh yeah? You want more? Harder? Faster?" I grunted, doing just that.

"A-are you...even cap-capable?"

"Oh I'm just getting started."

No more words were said after that - I'd clearly managed to render him speechless at last - as I continued to pound away, the only sounds being that of me grunting with effort or the cries and whimpers which I tore from his skinny body. I knew I should vary the pace more and calm it down a bit, especially considering that he'd received no prep, but I couldn't for the life of me. My body seemed to have taken on a life of its own; spurred on by all the hurt, shame and anger he'd brought me, not to mention all the frustration I was experiencing. Giving him another taste of what he'd done to me; his nose having already healed, its bruises now gone, while the tears and rips in my heart were still torturing me.

It didn't seem fair that he'd hurt me so badly, yet I'd taken him in when he'd had nowhere to go. It always seemed like I was the one forever giving, while he just leeched off my being as a whole; still not done with dragging me down and further shaming my very existence.

No. He needed to be punished, taught a lesson, shown that he should just fucking move on already; you don't always get what you want. Life's certainly shown me that more than enough; it was time he had a proper reality check and seeing as he refused to listen to words, this was the way it would have to be done.

My hands, too, seemed to move of their own accord, while the right moved to fist in his dark mop of raven hair, holding him down, the left pushed up his shirt, shoving it up his body to jam under his armpits. The ivory skin was undeniably pretty, almost feminine, except for the sharp bones which protruded from it; his vertebrae and shoulder blades hard to miss as they pushed up against it and made themselves known. I couldn't help but drag my short nails down his back, the hiss he released and backwards buck of his hips, marking the action. Angry red lines formed; the only blemishes on the otherwise flawless skin, which was like silk to the touch.

At this point I grabbed hold of a hip again, leaning over his body more - covering it with my own - so that I could thrust in deeper. As my mouth, grunting, came to rest near the side of his neck, I noticed the way goosebumps rose in response to the hot air hitting his clammy skin. Then, with another powerful thrust into his impossibly tight body - which just seemed to grip and pull me in yet further - I must have hit his prostate, as his entire body shuddered and a wanton groan sounded from him.

"Like that, hmm?" I breathed heavily into his ear, giving its shell a daring lick, my tongue coming into contact with the metal of what must be an earring through the cartilage, which I hadn't known about. He just nodded, his own breathing hard and unsteady, half his face still pressed down onto the granite, as he groaned loudly now.

I was gripping his hip hard enough to definitely leave bruises, as I held him like that a bit longer, allowing him to properly feel me, practically balls deep, within him. His knuckles, hands grasping the counter, were white due to his straining grip and he began to pant, a keening whine sounding from within his throat.

"This still all you hoped it would be?" I managed, nipping at his earlobe, as I then pulled his hips away from the counter as he'd attempted to grind into it, desperate to somehow relieve himself. The action made him whimper, as he was shocked with a deeper penetration, his smaller body now having to accommodate all of me.

"M-move, p-please," he gasped, his skinny frame beginning to tremble as I held our position, my own body also protesting and dying to continue pounding into the welcome heat within him. "P-please."

His desperate begging, gasped out as I could feel his heart beating madly through his back and his laboured breathing, my own hips beginning to ache with the strain of holding still, was enough for me to finally let go and fully pound into him once more. I was of course rewarded with loud groans and screams, his throat clearly hoarse as they would taper off, only for him to whimper or moan with the draw back of my thrusts.

At this point I could feel his legs shaking, his insides managing to grasp me yet impossibly tighter, the gaspy whines and panting making him sound like a fucking porn star.

"You close, hmm?" I teased, halting my movements, leaving only the head of my dick still sheathed in his tight heat, although I myself was very close.

"D-DON'T STOP!!" he yelled desperately, his voice thick and hoarse, as he attempted to push himself back on me. "You're being a complete fucker!" he whined, his body trembling and insides clenching and unclenching on me, he was absolutely gagging for it.

"Your wish," I sneered, and rammed straight back - perhaps the hardest yet - into the nearly unbearable tightness of his arse, making him cry out excruciatingly, voice breaking into falsetto.

I was somewhat taken aback by the almost melodic sound, as he pushed back against my thrust and continued to practically sing for me, so it wasn't much of a surprise when he finally came noisily. The fluttering of his muscles around me was incredible, as he moaned from deep inside himself and I was brought over the edge too in an admittedly blissful wave of unexpected pleasure.

Both of us were panting heavily and where my shirt had ridden up and our skin touched further, I could feel how sweat clung between us, further proof of our exertion. With great effort I managed to stand myself up and pull out, his limp frame seeming to curl up in on itself in its exposed state, as he whimpered at the loss. Even from my position, I could see that he'd managed to thoroughly douse the cupboard upon his release.

I myself now felt all sweaty and in desperate need of a shower, the smell of his cigarettes having rubbed off on me and mixed with our mingled perspiration, had me dying to get clean.

"I-I'm gonna go...shower," I managed, my heavy breathing not having calmed down yet. "Cl-clean up the mess...you made before-before you go to bed." I then turned around and left for that shower and clean water; the shock at what I'd just done, beginning to set in, as I hurriedly disposed of the condom and yanked my trousers up.

***

After my shower and changing, I still felt uneasy, my gut twisting with the realisation.

What the fuck had I just done? I'd actually just gone and fucked a kid; I'd fucked _Matthew_. What the hell was I going to do with myself?

When I went to go and then check if Matthew had actually cleaned up, before no doubt having fucked off back to his room, not wanting Tom to come home to any unwanted substances smeared over what was supposed to be a hygienic room, I found a lot more than I'd bargained for.

Matthew had cleaned the mess up and pulled up his trousers, his shirt too back in place, but that was about it, for now he was curled up with his back against the cupboard and knees pulled up to his chest, as he cried with his face buried in his arms, which were tightly wrapped around his scrawny legs.

A panicked pang struck me, as I cautiously moved closer and sunk down to my knees in front of the upset kid.

"Matthew, are you okay?" Stupid question, Dom. Of course he's not fucking okay!

The sudden change in my tone towards him was also hard to miss; gone was the cruel, angered edge of earlier. Instead I was back to the classic, terrified 'what the fuck, Howard' tone; in a way reminding me of when I'd broken the kid's nose. This fuck up was of course a whole lot bigger though. There was just something about him, though, all the pent up anger and hurt that he'd caused, which managed to clearly bring out the worst in me - blinding me until it was too late and I'd already made my latest idiotic move. He just managed to push my buttons in all the wrong ways. All the anger had spurred me on and made me see red, but suddenly, looking at the state of him now, I was brought crashing back down to reality.

Instead of answering though, he just seemed to further curl in on himself, as he attempted to shuffle a little further away, the muffled sounds of his sobs all just making the tight pang in my chest constrict even more.

"Matthew..." When I reached out to place a hand on him, his whole body jumped, before his shoulders began to shake more with his pitiful crying. "Matthew, please, don't cry." The tension and angst in my voice could easily be heard. "What's wrong, did I hurt you?"

"W-why, you do-don't care." It was muffled by his arms, but I could hear him none the less.

"But I do," I objected, reaching out to force him out of the tight ball he'd formed. And I really did care. Despite what appeared to be becoming a pattern with the kid, I wasn't a bad person and just the thought that I was responsible for making him cry, hurt me intensely and forced me to willingly care. "I told you I do, and I really do; especially if I hurt you," I reiterated, as he was forced to lift his face to me. His eyes were watery and red-rimmed, tear tracks having made paths down his cheeks, while his black hair puffed out in a decidedly dishevelled manner and framed his deathly pale face.

"Y-you don't care. No-one does. No-one gives a shit about me. My own family d-don't even want anything to do with me," he whispered, head held up by me gripping his chin, so that he'd look at me and away from his own embrace.

"Matthew, I do care and if they wish to treat you like that, well then you're definitely better off without them. But please, tell me, did I hurt you? Why are you crying like this?"

"I-I'm crying b-because I'm such a fuckup, my life is completely p-pathetic. My family hate me, _you_ h-hate me, I fucking even h-hate me and it's all just getting to b-be too much and I just p-practically forced myself on you--"

"You didn't, I'm just as much to blame - in fact more so - I shouldn't have listened to your taunts, I--"

"--and I n-never thought that this was how I'd lose my v-virginity to another man; I l-love you b-but yo-you s-say you d-do-don't--" At this it all got to be too much and more tears sprang forth, as he pulled his head away so that he could hide his face once more. "A-and n-now I'm being even m-more pathetic and c-crying like a little b-bitch."

I just gaped at his hunched figure in shock. I - _I_ \- I'd taken his virginity? Well fuck. Suddenly I felt even worse - if that was possible - I shouldn't have been so rough, regardless, but this new bit of information made it all just that much worse.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have--"

"I-I didn't want you to th-think I was anymore pathetic, t-than y-you already do," with these muffled words he seemed to attempt to pull even closer in on himself, damp patches spreading in his sleeves from under his face.

"But, Matthew, it's nothing to be ashamed of, shit, you should've told me..." I tried, hands hovering uselessly, not sure what to do.

He just shook his head in his arms, clearly no longer wanting to speak as his shoulders just continued to shake and the damp patches on his sleeves just grew larger.

At this I felt my insides completely tear with guilt and shame and anger and sadness and - I was a complete mess; one could only imagine how poor fucking Matthew actually felt. Through all of this I'd been completely selfish and had just ignored and disregarded how he felt, not ever once thinking - at least not properly - how he was doing. Sure I'd sympathised with his situation and allowed him to stay the night, but if it hadn't been for Tom, would he really still be here? Would I have been able to look past my own anger and pain, to properly help him?

And then of course I'd also sympathised those nights when I'd hear him cry into his pillow, all alone, but had I once ever gone over and tried to help comfort him? Do anything to support him, properly, through this incredibly tough time of his life?

No.

The answer was always: no.

And as I crouched there awkwardly at his side, I just knew that this couldn't be yet another 'no' moment, it was due time that I actually _did_ something. And let's face it, after tonight's disaster, I definitely owed him. Fuck all my feelings, I'd definitely gone far and beyond any form of justification.

Matthew was incredibly vulnerable and, in the end, just needed someone's help and for _someone_ to actually care for a change.

So, it was with a deep breath, that I finally opened my arms and pulled his hunched and curled up body into my embrace.

At first, he seemed to tense and attempt to cringe away from me, but I just held him tighter, my left hand coming up to cradle his head against my chest, my clean top be buggered. It took a bit of time, but after a while, I felt him begin to actually sink properly into my embrace, his hands releasing himself so that they could cling onto me instead, as he buried his face into my shirt and continued to weep.

"I'm so sorry, Matthew. I'm so sorry, about everything: your family, the fact that you were kicked out, that I've been a complete arsehole, about tonight.... I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..."

I just kept on whispering apologies and words of comfort as best as I could into his damp mop of black hair, the hand on his back trying to rub soothing circles as he continued to cry.

After a while, he finally moved and lifted his head to look up at me, his red-rimmed eyes full of tears, their look strangely glassy, the pupils still wide, as he lifted a hand to wipe at his running nose.

" _I'm_ s-sorry, Dominic," he whispered in a small voice. "I j-just keep abusing your kindness and t-taking, when all I-I've ever done f-for you is cause you g-grief and h-hurt. And to t-top it all off, n-now I'm t-tearing and s-snotting all over y-you."

More tears began to fall form his eyes then and I did my best to help him wipe them away, as I took in the fact that he did indeed have streams of it all running down his face. Instead of being disgusted, though, I just pulled him back in my embrace when he tried to disentangle himself, embarrassed and ashamed.

"It's okay, Matthew, it's okay."

And suddenly it really was, I no longer felt angered or hurt, instead I only now felt pity and shame for the way I'd acted.

"I forgive you for the whole 'fake profile and leading me on' thing." After I said it a new wave of tears seemed to hit him and I felt his bony fingers dig more into me as he clung on tighter and cried even harder.    



	6. Chapter 6

  
  
When my eyes opened to greet the new day, it was to find something I'd never have ever expected; proof that, yes, last night _had_ actually happened.  
  
Curled in a ball, his body tightly tucked against mine and with his head of black hair nestled under my arm, his own arms wrapped around one of mine, was Matthew fucking Bellamy.  
  
 _Shitshitshitshitshitshit, what the_ fuck _was I supposed to do now?!_  
  
To say that I was freaking out would be putting it mildly, as I lay there looking at the kid in absolute shock. Fuck, yes, last night. Everything was coming back to me. Last night _had_ happened. I _had_ fucked him and to top it off had fucking deflowered the kid.  
  
 _Fuuuuuck, Dominic!!_  
  
After I'd found him in hysterics and had pulled him into an embrace, he'd only crumbled further, clinging to me like a frightened and lost child. He was one though, and I'd taken advantage of that, allowed myself to go berserk and just let my emotions take hold, playing along to his taunting. I should have controlled myself and kept my emotions in check, I was supposed to be the responsible adult in the situation, so all the blame fell on me.  
  
And, as I lay there, his inky hair having fallen in his face and covering most of it, yet not the way his lips were slightly parted, soft sounds of sleep and his breathing escaping from them, making him truly look young and helpless, I knew that I'd fucked up _big_ time.  
  
Extracting myself, careful not to disturb the kid, I sighed. The only reason he was in my bed now, was because he'd been so hysterical last night that I hadn't wanted to leave him alone for a change. It was like everything he'd been trying to hold back had just come flooding to the surface all at once. I distinctly remember, however, that when we'd finally gone to sleep, after I'd gotten some aspirin and water down his throat and Matthew having calmed down enough, he'd been on the other side of the bed...  
  
Shaking my head and in desperate need of coffee to help me in trying to think about what the fuck I was to do now, I headed off to the kitchen.  
  
Tom, of course, would only just have to be sitting at the kitchenette, his own coffee in hand.  
  
"Morning, Dom, bit of a late start to the day, eh, even for you," he greeted me casually, taking a sip from his mug, clearly just having got in. "Date go well then?"  
  
And just like that, without any prompting or any warning, I immediately caved.  
  
"Angus never pitched, so I waited there for ages like an idiot, before having to walk all the way back in the rain. Matthew then came home wasted, like he'd obviously had far too much to drink...but then, then..."  
  
"Yes, what then, Dom?" Tom asked carefully, having put down his mug and straightened up a bit, clearly picking up on my obvious freak out, but approaching it carefully and calmly.  
  
"Well...he was talking smack and we argued and he was being really different from his usual shy, nervous self...and...and...ugh, please don't hate me, I hate myself enough as it is..."  
  
"Relax, Dom, just tell me," he encouraged, his full attention focused on me, and I felt my stomach drop even more.  
  
"I fucked him. I...I fucked Matthew," as I said the words, I expected Tom to yell at me, shout that I was an awful person; just do something, say anything, but he just nodded. Confused by his calm manner, I felt the need to reiterate the issue at hand. "Tom, don't you get it?! I fucked Matthew, a fucking kid!!"  
  
But he just shook his head and sighed. "Granted I don't think it's one of your smartest moves, but you are kind of overreacting. He isn't a kid, Dom, he's of consensual age. He's also 18, you need to relax."  
  
"But, but, Tom, I'm 29! Fuck, I'm nearly 30! And he's this vulnerable, confused kid - 'cause yes, he still is one - and I just fucking went and took advantage of him! I should've been in control and acted like the adult. I'm a horrible, horrible person!" I objected, my hands tugging at my hair; the kitchen clearly proving to be the place to have breakdowns.  
  
At this point, Tom got up and tried to stop me from pulling out my hair. "Come on, Dom, you're not a horrible person. After all, didn't you allow him to stay here when he pitched up out of nowhere and even after everything he did to you?"  
  
"I _am_ a horrible person! Did I mention that I also took his virginity? Not that I knew at the time, but still, I was also anything but gentle!" At this, Tom did actually react at last, his eyes widening, only to relax back to their annoyingly calm state.  
  
"Well, again, that's not your fault, he should of told you? But as long as you were safe and it was consensual?"  
  
"Fuck... he did tease me into it I guess...and when I grabbed his dick, he _was_ hard as--"  
  
"Okay, Dom, I'll listen to your issues, but I'd appreciate it if you let the details slide," Tom tried to tease and lighten the mood, but I just looked back at him with my least amused expression.  
  
"Anyway...we were safe, I did use a condom."  
  
"Well then, it was consensual and safe, he's not underage; stop fretting," Tom shrugged, still attempting to lighten the atmosphere and calm me down. "The question now is, what are you going to do?"  
  
"Well that's exactly what I don't know! It certainly won't be happening again, though, that's for fucking sure," I sighed, emotionally drained and still upset about it all, as I sat down next to Tom. "I made a huge mistake..."  
  
***  
  
When I went to go and retrieve some clothes to wear, Matthew had woken up and was sitting against the headboard, duvet clutched to his chest and black hair poofing all around the place, his eyes a sleepy blue.  
  
The moment he saw me, I couldn't help but notice the fact that his cheeks tinted a light shade of pink, the colour blossoming over his pale, angular cheekbones, as I tried to ignore the way those baby-blues followed me when I went over to my cupboard.  
  
"Er, morning," I grunted awkwardly, dying a thousand deaths of shame inside, my back to him as I rummaged around for something to put on, other then the t-shirt and boxers I was currently sporting.  
  
"M-morning," he practically squeaked, his voice somewhat groggy from sleep.  
  
I could still feel his gaze boring into my back, as I hastily grabbed the first items of clothing I could find. This was so unbelievably awkward, I needed to get out of his presence A.S.A.P.  
  
"Uh, um, D-Dom?"  
  
The sound of him awkwardly stuttering my name - and in its nickname form no less - forced me to turn around and look back at him.  
  
"Yes, Matthew?" I tried to respond as calmly as I could, my inner turmoil about the whole affair raging and tumbling within me still.  
  
He was still clutching at the duvet, only his pointy, red t-shirt-covered shoulders poking out, as he appeared to be examining the duvet's subtle patterning. "T-thank you, you know, f-for last night," as soon as the words left his mouth, his already light blush seemed to intensify and his eyes briefly flitted up to look at me, before instantly returning to his intense examination of the covers.  
  
I was shocked and horrified, I'd been expecting him to go ape shit, or run off to his room. How could he possibly be thanking me for last night, after what I'd done?!  
  
"I-I really appreciate the f-fact that you put up with my m-meltdown," he then quickly added, cheeks going yet another shade darker.  
  
Ah, so it was for holding him as he practically cried himself to sleep...  
  
"It was the least I, uh, could do...especially after I...well, you know...got a bit carried away. I'm so sorry about that, I promise it will never happen again. It was so out of line and I feel awful about it. So, uh, yeah... I'm sorry," I managed to say, shoulders lifting briefly with the relief that came from apologising. The positive feeling quickly evaporated, however, when a look of confusion seemed to shadow the kid's face in response though.  
  
"'S-sorry'? You're s-sorry?" he asked, his eyes having managed to actually remain on me now, blush quickly vanishing as panic seemed to set in on his features.  
  
Panic seemed to latch onto me then too. Shit, maybe Tom was wrong and I'd been right to majorly freak out earlier. I'd so clearly upset the kid, I'd fucked up big time and he evidently _had_ suffered, because of it. And now I just expected him to accept my meagre 'I'm sorry'?  
  
"Yes, I am," I hurried to say, wanting to make sure he understood that I truly meant it and that I did regret having majorly overstepped. "I abused your trust and took away your sense of safety. I don't know what was wrong with me; I was having a really bad day, but I know that's no excuse. I really am sorry, I can promise you now that I really will never do it again."  
  
It was rushed and panicked, but sincere; I truly meant what I was saying. His expression just seemed to continue darkening though and I felt my heart drop.  
  
How _could_ I possibly make it up to him? What does one do, when they've taken advantage of someone in such a vulnerable position? Would he ever be able to forgive me? Would _I_ even be able to forgive myself? I'm not a mean person and it truly does kill me when I know that I've hurt others. I don't want to make enemies, not even with Matthew. He's just some confused and lost kid, I can't stay mad at him. If anything he definitely _does_ have the right to be mad at me; how can I ever repair this damage?  
  
"W-why are you s-sorry? H-how can you be s-sorry for what h-happened last night? You didn't abuse my t-trust, how could y-you ever be even vaguely s-sorry for what we s-shared?"  
  
And suddenly the penny dropped.  
  
 _SHITFUCK._  
  
"Matthew..." I began, taking in a deep breath. I was still in the wrong, but clearly I'd just proceeded to misinterpret the situation. Matthew wasn't upset about what happened last night; he was upset about me regretting it. I should have guessed it... "You clearly are misunderstanding what happened - I practically jumped you. You were drunk and not in the right frame of mind, not to mention your current state of emotional vulnerability."  
  
"S-sure I was wasted, b-but I knew what was happening - I s-still remember - and I w-wanted it as much as y-you did," he argued, not wanting to realise last night had been a complete catastrophy of a disaster; which it most certainly had been.  
  
Shit, I was so screwed. I'd only gone and encouraged the kid, making him think that he actually did stand a chance and that we would get together. It was _not_ going to happen though, never in a million years.  
  
"Matthew, you're a kid still. You're also going through a rough time at the moment, you don't know what you want. _This_ , what happened between us last night, the...the _sex_ , can _never_ happen again. It was a huge mistake and I fully regret it. I never wanted that to happen. I'm just sorry that you clearly misinterpreted it all."  
  
"'Misinterpreted it all'?! Oh, I'm sorry I misunderstood that you actually, in fact, didn't want it when you stuck your fucking dick up my arse! And excuse me for thinking it actually meant something to you too! I wish you'd just stop treating me like I'm a goddamn child already! I'm not one, you condescending--"  
  
"Now, Matthew, don't say anything you'll regret--" I attempted to stop the obvious tirade, which was rapidly spinning out of hand, Matthew having stumbled out of bed so that he could shout, but the large t-shirt I'd given him last night only proved to dwarf him all the more, as it hung loosely off his small, bony frame, the bottoms of his boxers only just showing.  
  
"Fuck you, Dominic! You're such a sanctimonious hypocrite; you're so blinded by your own misconceptions that you can't see past them and realise the truth! Realise that I'm still exactly the same person; the one you - and don't even try to deny it, 'cause you said it more than enough - fell in love with!!" he yelled, obviously upset and in his anger and rage, his nervous stutter just seemed to disappear.  
  
"Excuse me?! How dare you just throw slander like that at me! And I _do not_ love you, Matthew! Make no mistake, the only reason you're here is because Tom and I feel bad for you. Do not get confused. I do not love you now and I never have. I was in love with an idea. I'm sorry about last night, but it doesn't mean that anything's changed," I replied firmly, trying to keep my voice down, Tom could no doubt hear everything.  
  
"B-but last night? You said you c-cared about m-me? I fucking g-gave you my virginity, but you were just l-lying. Why did you s-say you c-cared when you d-don't?" It felt like a hit to the gut, as all of Matthew's fury seemed to melt and give way to that hurt and confused kid, his baby-blue eyes already becoming shiny and wet. "I l-love _you_ , why can't you s-see that you feel the s-same?"  
  
"Matthew, I _don't_ love you. How can I? I barely even know you, aside from the fact you've practically only just gone through puberty and are still _way_ too young. I'm sorry - you have no idea just how much - for what I did last night, I got carried away, but I also had no idea that it was your first; you should have told me, or...I don't know, said something, stopped me... Last night was just a complete fuck up and all I can really do is just keep ramming home the fact that I'm sorry. But, believe me, I do care about you, just not the way in which you clearly want me to."  
  
At this point, I could see that he was struggling to hold back tears, while still trying to remain strong.  
  
"Y-you're such an i-idiot," was all he could manage, his voice breaking, as the first tear broke free and began to slide down a sharp cheekbone, before he spun around and ran out, his gate noticeably limped, no doubt to hide in his room.  
  
I sat down on my bed then, partly in shock. I couldn't believe I'd managed to fuck up so brilliantly and screw everything up. Welcome to my life, it only ever succeeds in proving that there's always yet another new low to fall to.  
  
"Hey, Dom, you okay?"  
  
I looked up to see Tom standing in the doorway, a look of concern highlighting those kind features of his.  
  
"What do you think? _I'm_ the complete screwup," I replied burying my head in my hands. "I'm the one that fucked up big time, yet the kid refuses to believe it. He's still so fucking adamant and refuses to believe that I don't feel _that_ way about him and never will."  
  
"Well, to be fair, I don't think having sex with the bloke helped clear the confusion and lingering feelings he clearly still has," Tom shrugged. "I wish I knew what to say to both of you, but I don't. This whole thing truly has nothing to do with me; I'm like Switzerland in the middle of a raging war. I wash my hands, because it will - and already has proven to - only end in tears."  
  
"Tom...I thought you were supposed to be _my_ mate?" I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood and not truly meaning my taken aback tone. If he wanted to play the go-between, fair enough; he shouldn't have to be affected by my momentous fuck up last night.  
  
"But of course I'm you're mate," Tom grinned and slapped me on the back playfully. "But right now I think Matthew needs a friend too."  
  
I sighed, but nodded none the less. Tom knew he was right, he didn't need me to say it for him.  
  
"Would you like a cuppa then? I figure a bit of tea will help calm things," he offered, heading back towards the bedroom door.  
  
"No thanks, Tom," I called and he waved and wandered off down the short passage, before I heard the distinct knock of a door and Tom's voice taking on a soft, kind tone.  
  
"Matt, can I make you a cup of tea perhaps?"  
  
 _Matt?_  
  
'Matt'? Since when were they on nickname terms?  
  
I could only groan as I buried my face in my hands, rolling over onto my side, the clothes I'd managed to retrieve before the argument kicked off with Matthew, lying abandoned and forgotten on the floor where I'd dropped them.  
  
My life seemed to just be one big damn mess that only seemed to keep proving it could get worse and worse; everything having just been amplified with the arrival of the skinny kid, with his dyed black hair and tattoos, into my life.


	7. Chapter 7

  
Since _the incident_ , Matthew has avoided me like the plague, our only interactions being hurt glares in my direction from him, as he scuttles off to his room, or out of the house to work or to 'hang out' with his new mates.

Tom has kindly not brought up _the incident_ either, just letting us get on with it, but I can't help but note that he and Matthew seem to have become closer (well in comparison), while my - already nonexistent - relationship with the kid has only succeeded in deteriorating all the more.

Like before, Matthew also only seems to come home late at night, usually even stretching it into the wee hours of the morning, or even after the sun has come up; usually completely smashed. I just avoid him then, memories of our encounter fresh in my mind, but then he does just tend to stumble straight off to lock himself in his room for hours on end. If not in the bathroom to be sick first.

I can tell Tom's concerned about the kid's 'rock 'n roll' lifestyle, but quite frankly I support it; it means he's out of the house for longer stretches of time and allows me more freedom. I've been on a couple - more successful - dates which have ended rather nicely; all helping to try rid me of the memory of the feel of Matthew's sex. I didn't need to remember that. This...detox, was what I needed. It was certainly doing me good.

I felt freer, less tied down and guilt stricken. At least that's what I told myself.

***

Well over a few months or so after the incident, I awoke to the sound of a knock at my door. I'm usually a deep sleeper, but what woke me was the fact that it wasn't the front door, but rather my bedroom door, which had been knocked on.

Usually this wouldn't have freaked me out as much, but Tom was staying at Angie's, a more common occurrence now after he'd proposed at long last a couple weeks ago, and Matthew had gone out again, so would probably only arrive with the coming of dawn as per usual, not to mention the fact he does practically everything possible to avoid my presence. So who did that then leave?

Confusedly, I scrambled out of bed and yanked on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that were lying nearby, before I cautiously made my way to my bedroom door and opened it.

The sight which awaited me nearly had me scream out for help, thinking we were being robbed, as a strange man and girl I'd never seen before stood in front of me, until I noticed that a near comatose person was being held up between them. I hadn't recognised him as Matthew at first, until I realised it wasindeed him, just that the idiot had gone and dyed his hair a bright shock of blue.

"You're Dom, right?" the girl asked, she looked about Matthew's age and was about just as skinny, with multiple piercings dotting her face and her own hair a ridiculously unnatural pink.

"Er..." I began, not sure what the fuck to say, still so utterly gobsmacked by the situation.

"'S him, 's Dommy," Matthew slurred and the man rolled his eyes, though a slight smile took hold of his lips, the bottom one pierced once either side. He, on the other hand, looked closer to my age than the two teens.

"Well, we brought him back, Matt seemed to have had a little too much fun," he laughed, as Matthew then struggled to get on his feet properly, but only succeeded in falling into my arms, his legs completely useless. "If that's even possible."

"'Sup, Dommy," he slurred, his eyes completely glassed over, as I attempted to support his dead weight.

"Well, at the look of things, it most certainly is," I muttered, narrowing my eyes, but I could tell they weren't much better off than him, both also looking a little worse for wear and seriously making me consider Matthew's choice in friends, as they just shrugged and giggled.

"Anyway, we just thought we'd help bring him home from the party, but we don't wanna miss anymore, now do we, Roxy?" the man asked, still grinning away like nothing was wrong, when Matthew had basically been reduced to a ragdoll in my arms. I could also smell an almost overpowering scent of booze and cigarettes off the lot of them, along with something a lot stronger, which naturally set my nerves racing anxiously.

"Hell yeah! But wait, Matt," she said, quickly digging into one of her pockets. "You don't wanna forget your money, after all, I hear you certainly deserve it. A couple guys even gave me their numbers to give to you for 'seconds', if you know what I mean," she continued with a wink, though I highly doubted what the kid was capable of comprehending in his current state. I, on the other hand, instantly realised what sort of money she meant and what exactly Matthew must have done to get it, along with the numbers of some random men.

Surely not though? Matthew wouldn't, I mean, he's only just recently...

But then I watched on, in absolute horror, as she pulled out the wad of cash with some folded scraps of paper and tucked it all into his jean's back pocket with a pat.

"GET OUT!!" I yelled, absolutely unfucking impressed with everything and putting my foot down. I didn't want them under my roof for another second more. Suddenly the fact that the man was about twice my size in muscle didn't matter, I just wanted them out already.

"'S wrong, Dom, hmm?" Matthew mumbled, confusedly.

The other two nodding. "Sheesh, no need to get worked up, we did you a favour, we brought back your little boy toy," the girl muttered in offence, the man just shaking his head.

"Com'on, Rox, let's leave. Matt'll call us back and give us a proper thank you when he's less outta it," and with that, they thankfully left, Matt still pouting confusedly at me for kicking them out.

When I was positive they were on their way, I snatched Matthew's key from him and locked the front door, before turning back to find that the kid was no longer sitting in a heap on the entrance hall floor where I'd left him.

Making my way over to the passage, I just caught the sight of the back of him crawling, as he disappeared into my room at the end, so, with a deep sigh, I followed after him.

"Matthew, what pray tell are you doing on my bed?" I asked, as I came in to find the kid sprawled drunkenly across it, but he just giggled in response.

With yet another sigh, I went over to pull his shoes off, refusing to have them on my bed a second longer. As I began to do so, however, he began to fumble with his belt and trousers.

"Oi, what do you think you're doing?! Keep your pants on!" I reprimanded him, batting his hands away from their intended job.

"But I've to...to take 'em off...for you to fuck me," he slurred and pouted, attempting to sit up, as I helped stabilise him. "Can't do it'f my pants 're on," he said, a frown creasing between his dark brows.

I just rolled my eyes, deciding to take a closer look at the kid, as I swept his - now bright blue - fringe out of his eyes, wanting to find his equally blue eyes, but instead being met with glazed over, glassy eyes with greatly dilated pupils.

Their dilation wasn't due to lust, there wasn't much doubt about the fact; I recognised the specific look they had from my old 'party days'.

The kid was clearly not only absolutely pissed up, but he was also high as a fucking kite.

Matthew was definitely tripping, and as I attempted to keep his head up straight on his floppy neck, I could tell it was most likely not weed either that had him wasted like this. The question was, though, what was he on? The kid had clearly managed to get his hands on something a lot more potent. His 'friends' having no doubt helped him.

"Matthew, what have you done to yourself?" I asked, but he just shook his head, his movements sluggish and lacking proper control of his motor skills, as he shot me a lopsided grin.

"'M fine, just havin' a little fun s'all," he insisted, attempting to get up, only for me to have to make a grab for him again and catch his noodle-like body.

"Ugh, we need to sober you up," I groaned, but he just rolled his eyes.

"You're bein' silly, Dom. 'M fine, s'riously, stop stressin'," he slurred, furrowing his brows and doing his best to look somewhat serious. "Y'worry too much, y'need to just _do_ sometimes too."

Quirking my own eyebrows at that, I just decided to let it go, only for him to erupt in a spatter of giggles, before he attempted to suddenly pull me into a kiss.

"Matthew, no!!" I scolded him like one would a naughty puppy, pushing the pouting boy back, only for him to wobble and fall flat on his bony arse. "Shit, come on, here, let me help you up."

Instead of taking my offered hand though, his features seemed to suddenly pale and go a slightly queasy shade.

"Dom, don't...feel...to-too good," he groaned, hands clumsily clapped over his mouth.

_Fuck, not good. Not good at all._

Instincts instantly kicking in, I quickly scooped his dopey body up and rushed him over to my en suite, there not being enough time to get him to another bathroom sadly.

We were indeed just in time too, for as soon as I had him kneeling over the porcelain bowl, he was throwing up like a fire hose. Not having the strongest of stomachs, I was actually impressed by the fact that I wasn't really grossed out, and that I could actually bear to stay at his side, holding his ridiculous blue fringe out of the way.

After some time, he'd been left with only an empty stomach to dry heave, even the bile having stopped coming up, as I continued to hold his hair and rub his back reassuringly, knowing it was the best thing for him. My concern for his well-being taking control and pushing the issues I'd had with him away. He lived under my roof now; he was my responsibility, which was also exactly why I still felt so bad for having taken advantage of him that night. Even if the kid refuses to acknowledge that it had been wrong.

The effort of throwing up and heaving, had made him break out in a sweat, his shirt sticking clammily to his skin where I rubbed and as I let go of his hair, I found that his fringe remained pasted on top with his perspiration. Groaning, he flopped his head on his arm, which was still clutching the toilet bowl, and gave me a better look at his face again as he looked back at me.

Tear tracks ran down his face, which was still a deathly shade of white, while strangely looking even more gaunt, sweat clinging to and shining on his skin, while his thin body strained with his laboured breathing.

"That all of it?" I asked, getting up to wet a cloth, to help clean him up with, though I suspected that I'd need to end up properly hosing him off in the shower.

"T-think so," he managed, voice raspy from his abused throat. "Feel h'rr'ble still though."

"Well that's what happens when you're irresponsible," I tutted, sounding like a bloody disapproving mother, as I crouched down in front of him, pulling him away from the toilet so that I could flush it.

He could only groan though, as I then reached out and cleaned his face up with the cloth, wiping away the moisture gathered along his temples, brows and top lip, as well as that of the tear tracks and some vomit.

"I don't know what you were thinking, and - shit, Matthew - you've got sick on your clothes! Take them off," even as I said it though, I was helping him unbutton the black shirt he was wearing, avoiding all the suspicious damp patches, before flinging it into the bathtub.

"See, you'do wanna get me naked," he attempted to joke, having sobered up a tad, now that he'd expelled some of the toxins.

I just rolled my eyes and began to work on his trousers, opening them up to see that he wasn't even wearing underwear underneath.

"Matthew, why aren't you wearing boxers?" I asked, feeling my cheeks heat in embarrassment, as I tried to stand him up and pull his sicked-on-pants the rest of the way down.

"I'm not?" he asked, his features scrunching up in thought, as his sluggishly addled mind tried to process the information. "'M sure I left with some on..." His, still worryingly glassy, eyes then looked south to see that he was indeed now completely starkers, only his black skinnies needing to have been removed. "Whoa, 'm completely naked." The sudden realisation made him giggle though, his intoxicated state shielding him from embarrassment, as I awkwardly continued to support Matthew. I could feel my cheeks were still brightly flushed, as I guided him into the shower then, being sure to keep my eyes up high.

Once he was in, I reached for the faucet and turned it up on high and on cold, before instantly yanking my hand back as freezing water pelted down on Matthew, who'd just slumped to the shower floor after I'd let go of him. It was a fast way to clean him up, while also help sober him up as much as possible; harsh, but necessary.

"BLOODY BUGGERING HELL!!" he screeched as I shut the shower door, wanting to keep the water spray exclusively on him, as his previously lazy, glassy eyes shot open and he sprang onto his shaky feet. "D-Dom?! S-so, s-so-so c-c-cold, p-please!" he began to beg, wiry thin arms wrapping around his painfully bony, little body, his pale skin losing what little colour it had as he began to chatter and shiver away.

I then grabbed one of the large towels hanging nearby and opened the shower door. As he stumbled out of the shower, clutching for the towel I handed him, I couldn't help but note the fact that he'd definitely lost weight - weight he hadn't really had to spare, his ribs worryingly visible and upper arms practically small enough for me to loop my fingers around.

I hurriedly shut the shower off, before turning back to him. He'd managed to wrap himself in the large towel, but standing had clearly proven too much to ask for in his state, as he'd just collapsed to the ground again; shivering and shaking away.

"Matthew, what have you done to yourself?" I couldn't help but asked again.

Sighing, I stooped down to his level, his big blue eyes staring, big and frightened, at me, the pupils still unnervingly too large, and his blue lips trembling with the chattering of his teeth, dark blue hair plastered, dripping against his head.

"I-I'm s-sor-ry," was all he had to say for himself, hot tears beginning to slowly leak from his eyes and slip down his hollow cheekbones, as he clumsily attempted to tighten the towel around himself with shaking hands.

"Come on then, let's get you warm. We can talk in the morning," I said, helping him to his feet again. I knew it was no use trying to get anything coherent out of him in his current state or for him to carry a proper, serious conversation - and Lord knows he has a lot to explain.

So I ended up leading him towards his bedroom, his body still trembling with shivers, as I opened the door and flicked on the light.

"Bloody hell..."

The small room was strewn with clothes, all over the place, his camping bed unmade, blankets on the floor, and the dark curtains were drawn; giving the whole room a rather stuffy and bleak quality. What caught my attention, though, was what lay, forgotten, on the small desk next to a heap of some of the other junk he'd gathered there.

"Jesus, Matthew, what _have_ you gotten yourself into?" I wondered more to myself, as I left him to fumble and drunkenly crawl around in search out something to wear from the clothing lying about.

Shaking my head in a mixture of disbelief and horror, I walked over and picked up the small, nearly empty baggy, which lay beside Matthew's Zippo and a half smoked carton of his cigarettes, its contents' appearance leaving little doubt as to what it was.

My face no doubt reflecting my horror and disgust, I looked back at Matthew, who'd managed to somehow pull on some boxers, before passing out with only one leg inside a pair of dark skinnies and his right arm and head having also made it through the holes of a sweater.

Asleep, he looked so calm and peaceful, despite the fact that his revealed left hipbone and the uncovered side of his ribs protruded painfully beneath that delicate, porcelain skin, a series of nasty looking bruises joining the few visible tattoos in providing a contrast of colour. His damp blue hair was also flopped over his face, eyes hidden behind lids darkened with lack of sleep.

When had he gotten those birds tattooed over his ribs? I certainly didn't recall them even from _the incident_. And I'd been entranced by his skin, even then, I certainly would have noticed the thin outline of black and grey figures wrapped in flight over those sharp bones.

"Oh, Matthew..." How had I failed to see all this happen?! I'd been so busy trying to avoid him that I'd also missed out on noticing that something had gone very wrong.

Very wrong indeed. When had the painfully shy, sweet seeming kid begun taking drugs and sleeping with strange men for money?

Was this seriously all my fault? Was I the cause?

My fist tightened around the small, plastic bag of cocaine in my hand, as I then began to look around to find what else he had squirrelled away in this mess of a room.

Matthew.

What were we going to do?


	8. Chapter 8

In my raid of Matthew's room I'd found a whole host of worrying things. Along with the cocaine, I'd also discovered an old bong - proving that Matthew was also indeed smoking a lot more than just cigarettes; no wonder he'd been smoking cooped up in his room more and more often.

Along with all that, I'd also found the expected dope and a small baggie with a few of what looked like suspicious, not-your-every-day-over-the-counter kinda pills; which definitely _had_ to go. Fuck, I still can't quite believe it.  


  
I hadn't been able to sleep for the rest of the night and so had then just waited up for Tom to return in the morning, my gut twisting awfully when I thought of how disappointed he'd be when I told him.

I hadn't been wrong.

Like me, Tom had been horrified by the discovery and the fact that we'd failed to notice any of it. We'd discussed our options, but both of us (yes even me) had decided we couldn't just kick him out. He needed some form of a support system; he needed us. After all, it was hard to forget the fact that his family had completely deserted him. We were all he had; without us he had no one. It was also hard to forget how I'd betrayed that trust.

Tom and I sat together, me sipping at some much needed coffee - even though it was already my fourth cup of the day, despite the fact it wasn't even lunchtime yet - while he discussed his evening with Angie. We needed the distraction.

When Tom got up to make lunch, Matthew finally made his much anticipated appearance; bright blue hair messy and in his face and wearing the jeans he'd made an attempt on last night, along with the jersey, which he practically drowned in. He looked undeniably sheepish, so clearly he did remember at least a small fragment of the previous night.

"Er, m-morning," his voice croaked, right hand awkwardly clutching his left arm as he held himself self-consciously.

"Afternoon," I corrected, raising an eyebrow, as Tom hurried back into the lounge at the sound of Matthew's entrance.

Matthew opened his mouth as if to say something else, but then seemed to think better of it and just shrugged, eyes shooting up at Tom, as the brunet rushed at him.

"Matthew, what are you thinking; getting involved with all of that?!" he scolded, but it was hard to miss the fact that the concern in his voice and features far outweighed the anger.

When Matthew's only response was to shrug again, his eyes shifting to just stare at his long feet, I felt my blood boil. How could he be so callous?!

"Don't you understand how serious this shit is?!" I asked, getting up from the sofa, finding it impossible to just sit still.

A flash of blue eyes shot at me, before he replied, dark brows frowning.

"I'm sure you've smoked weed before, so don't get all uppity and self-righteous with me. I'm young, I'm supposed to experiment. It's normal; don't act like you've never done it before!" he objected, the fact that not a stutter interrupted his speech, not going amiss to either of us.

"Oh come on, Matthew. Cocaine is a huge fucking step from weed! I was never stupid enough to fool around with the stuff, but I've seen what it does. What the fuck are you thinking?!" I growled in response and when his brows drew together, I just pulled the coke baggie from my pocket. "Don't even try to deny it, Matthew!"

"Come on, Matt. You're better than all this, why are you doing it?" Tom asked, attempting to bring down the volume.

"'Better than all this'? How do you know that?" he asked, expression becoming worryingly stubborn, but his eyes were still trained on his feet, bottom lip caught between his skew teeth; old habits returning fast.

"You are, Matthew," I began, catching Tom's hint to try keep things calm and civil. "Is this all my fault that you've turned to drugs? Is it because...because of what happened that night or just between us in general?"

At that, his eyes shot back up to glare at me, their usually liquid blue, hard and steely (if not a little red and puffy too). "Dominic, not everything is always about you! I've smoked pot for years and dabbled in a bit of drugs throughout my youth - what I do has nothing to do with you anyway. You don't care. Not really. So stop pretending already."

I felt like grabbing his scrawny shoulders and shaking that attitude right out of him. No matter what he claimed, he was changing and it certainly wasn't for the better.

"Matthew, what you do does have everything to do with us, after all we took you in under our roof; making us responsible. We're just worried about you," Tom said, shooting me a warning look to keep my mouth shut, no doubt taking in the way my grip on Matthew's contraband tightened and I ground my teeth.

"Well, I appreciate that, but I didn't ask you to be my parents. You aren't. So please, just leave it." He was back to biting his lip though. "And anyway, I don't usually go all out like last night. So you can relax. One only turns 19 once, after all."

I'd been glaring at the floor, his self-righteous attitude too much, but at that my head snapped up to look back at him, Tom also staring at him, mouth agape.

"Yesterday was your birthday?" I asked, his eyes going back to glare at me. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"What was the point? You refuse to even be in the same room as me, Dominic. So why even bother. I didn't need any falsities, so I spent my night with people who don't pretend to be anything they're not. I just wanted to get wasted out of my mind and I did. So a successful evening was had by all; so stop worrying or whatever. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just gonna go back to bed. I don't need this."

"No, Matthew. This is serious. I'm sorry I didn't know about your birthday, but that doesn't mean getting high off your face and ending up floored is okay. Cocaine will destroy you and I won't just sit back and watch it happen," Tom objected, grabbing onto one of the kid's skinny arms. "And I know we're not your parents, but someone has to look out for you."

"Tom's right. Regardless of our past, I don't want to have to watch you destroy yourself. Things are going to change around here; starting with your job," I joined in, Matthew now glaring at both of us.

"I've called your boss to inform him of your resignation. Clearly the people around you have only served in bringing you down. There will also be no more late nights; from now on you're grounded until we can trust you again," Tom continued, Matthew shaking his grip off him.

"Grounded? What the fuck?! I'm 19 and you're not my parents, you can't ground me! Who the fuck do you even think you are?!"

Tom's eyes were wide at the alarming shift in Matthew's characteristically timid demeanour, having had no previous exposure to this usually hidden side of the kid. I could see a flash of panic and regret in Matthew's eyes, but he just shook his head and stormed down the passage before slamming his bedroom door behind himself.

"Jesus Christ..."

"See what I mean now?" I asked, putting my arm around Tom's shoulders.

"Yeah. Wow..."

"Teenagers," I commented, as we went over to the kitchen and I turned the kettle on, Tom returning to his previously abandoned beginnings of lunch prep.

We worked in silence for a bit, until Tom finally broke it, while I was busy pouring out the tea.

"I'm worried about him, Dom. I really am. He needs a friend, someone who truly wants what's best for him, seeing as he's now lost interest himself. He must feel so alone and abandoned. It makes sense, what he's been doing." I could already see where Tom was going with this and I could tell he knew I did too, as he held his hands up cautiously. "Now, don't get upset with me, but...I think it should be you. I know he's angry now, but he really does trust you. The kid still idolises you - trust me, it's obvious - despite everything and I think it would mean a lot if you made an effort to fix things. Properly. Plus, I know you don't dislike him; not really."

Frowning, I shook my head. "Why me? I'm the one who keeps hurting him. He also definitely likes you more!"

"Come on, Dom. Of course it has to be you. It can only be. Besides, I also have Angie to worry about and you're the one who he can actually relate with. I'm not saying you have to return his feelings or anything, just that...you need to stop your shit too and help him. Who knows, you may even help yourself, you've not been the same since the whole James fiasco blew up."

Sighing, I pulled out another mug from the cupboard and filled it with tea, some milk and the kid's usual addition of a crapload of sugar. I knew he was right. Matthew needed someone. He had no one else and we could actually relate; both having been thrown aside by our families due to our sexual orientation.

All this animosity wasn't helping anyone and, if anything, had just prevented me from realising what was going on with Matthew.

"Thanks, Dom."

"Yeah, well. If this all ends off badly, the blame's on you."

***

"Matthew?" I said, announcing my presence with a knock as I opened his door with my wrist and crept in, closing it behind myself with a light backward kick, both mugs of tea still balancing precariously in my hands.

His bedroom was marginally tidier, the clothing all now having been tossed in a single large pile, thanks to my earlier search efforts.

Matthew didn't even stir when I walked in and placed his mug on the small corner table he was using for a beside table. He just remained with his back to me as he lay on his campcot bed.

I coughed awkwardly into my fist and perched on the chair by the desk. The desk where I'd found the cocaine.

"What do you want?" he asked, still not budging.

"Peace offering. I'm worried about you." He just scoffed at my reaction, but I took a deep calming breath and continued. "I'm also sorry about forgetting your birthday. I shouldn't have, I knew it, after all it really is the same as James'."

"I told you, James was me. Just not the pictures and Ben's life."

I took a sip of my tea, left to still only stare at his skinny back.

"I'm used to people forgetting my birthday anyway. Last year you and some of my Facebook 'friends' were the only ones who remembered, I had to remind my family. Then I still only got some half-hearted 'happy birthday' and a rushed last minute gift Mum managed to pull together: socks. Lucky for me I like socks, I suppose. Or perhaps I've just learnt to. At least they're practical..."

I felt my heart actually clench at that, remembering James telling me a long list of all the lovely things he'd gotten and done on his birthday last year. Clearly James' world had really been a form of escapism for Matthew, an alternate sort of world where he wasn't constantly ignored or forgotten and could do or be anything he wanted. How could I begrudge him that? If only he hadn't led me on. But then if he hadn't, where would he be now? If it had taken us so long to find out about his drug use, Lord only knows if - let alone when - his 'family' would've realised. Or even if they'd have cared.

"Still, I should have remembered and--"

"Why are you even bothering, Dominic? Like I said earlier: you've made it clear from the start what your opinion of me is. So why attempt whatever it is you're doing now?"

"I told you; I'm worried about you. Through all of this I've been so self-obsessed that I've failed to actually consider what you're going through. Being kicked out by your own family, the very people who are supposed to love you unconditionally; of all people, I should have sympathised the most. I've been there and I know how hard it is and how betrayed and abandoned it makes you feel. My head was just too far rammed up my own arse to offer you any proper help. I let my emotions get the better of me."

He didn't say anything in response, so I just swallowed and went on.

"So, um, I guess what I'm trying to say is...I want us to start again. To just forget the past and start over the way it should have been when you first turned up outside my door. Let me help you get through this hard time and be a friend to you."

At this he finally turned around, eyes red-rimmed, as he sniffed and looked at me with a questioningly raised eyebrow.

"Y-you mean t-that?" he asked cautiously, the stuttered words making me smile slightly. This was more the Matthew I'd come to know.

"Yes. Of course. I'm really sorry. I just want to help you. Tom and I both do, we don't want to further upset you, but the whole 'grounded' thing is just us trying to watch out for you better. The way I should have from the start."

He sat up carefully, skinny jean covered legs crossing, as a hand reached out slowly for his mug of tea, the ends of his bony, long fingers the only visible part of his hands outside his baggy jersey's sleeves.

"So, erm, about starting over?" I asked, taking a sip of my own tea, as he simply cradled his mug in his hands.

I strangely felt really nervous for his reply, if I'd learnt anything about him over the last few months or so, it was that he was full of surprises and was extremely unpredictable when he wanted to be.

His blue eyes seemed to cloud a bit as he bit on his fuller bottom lip.

"Y-yes. I-I'd like that. To star-start again," he eventually replied, except his eyes had fallen to gaze only at the steaming mug of tea in his hands.

Sensing he wanted to be alone to think things through, I quietly got up and walked out, but stopped briefly at the door to look back. Feeling my gaze, he lifted his head of messy, blue hair to look up at me and I think I surprised us both when I gave him a small smile, before closing the door behind myself.


	9. Chapter 9

"He still sleeping?" Tom asked me, fixing his tie before grabbing his jacket from the coat wrack; ready for work.  
  
"Like a baby I'm sure," I replied, nodding.  
  
We'd started a sort of routine in the house, one consisting of checking constantly on Matthew, to make sure he was staying out of trouble and to certainly keep an eye out for any illegal substances around him. I tended to do most of the work though, as Tom is very busy with his work and running after Angie.  
  
The worst had been the first few days after his birthday, the whole 'you have to now starve your body of the drugs you've been constantly feeding it and go cold turkey'. It hadn't been as bad as I've heard it can be, but he still spent most of that time sick, sweating it off half asleep in bed. The trembling phases had probably freaked me out the most, but it was supposed to be normal, so I'd just sat by and checked on him constantly, providing a bucket and wet cloth when needed.  
  
I'd of course taken off work so I could look after him and be around for him. And when at last it appeared the worst had passed, he'd come out and watch TV for a while with me, or we'd play cards, board games and build puzzles; anything to keep him occupied.  
  
To make things easier, I'd luckily managed to organise Matthew a job at the music store I manage, when he got well enough; creating a good opportunity for him to get out of the house, but for me to still keep an eye on him. He doesn't seem to mind though as he gets to do something he enjoys, James' music passion having also proven true to be Matthew's.  
  
Matthew's still allowed to smoke cigarettes now again, but only outside in the courtyard like myself. We haven't thought of any repercussions if he breaks the rules we've set in place, but he's been assured they'll be severe... I guess we're just lucky Matthew's being as cooperative as he is to getting clean; surprisingly not needing much encouragement. Clearly his addiction hadn't been too bad after all and the whole detox experience had put him off rather a bit. Maybe all he'd ever needed was someone to just pay attention; perhaps that's why he'd gotten into drugs in the first place: attention seeking.  
  
It would certainly explain the prostituting of himself, which we still don't exactly talk about. But I was sure to rummage through his phone's contact list and delete anyone who seemed suspicious, after having started with disposing of the numbers that that Roxy girl had given him; along with her own. The pitiful number of people that were left afterwards on his contact list, a clear indication of how very alone Matthew really was.  
  
As for my relationship with Matthew? Well, I wouldn't exactly call us the best of friends, but we're certainly better... Personally I'm just surprised we don't want to kill each other yet, considering how much time the kid and I spend together. He's definitely the person I see the most of every day.  
  
"Okay, good. Well, I'm off then, see you this evening," Tom greeted and I waved goodbye in return as he left to go to work.  
  
A look at my wristwatch said that it was about time Matthew got up too, I'd probably let him sleep in a bit too long this morning. Making sure I had a mug of coffee in hand, I made my way over to his room; the kid was definitely not a morning person and required all the help he could get to get up in the mornings.  
  
"Matthew?" I asked in a whisper, forgetting to knock on his door as I opened it. The sight that greeted me, though, nearly had me drop the mug in my hand and instantly regret forgetting to knock.  
  
Matthew had been spread on his bed, boxers pushed down around his knees, feet dug into the mattress, as he wanked himself. His body was covered with a slight sheen of sweat and his face was flushed, with his jaw hanging slack, as he pumped himself furiously. I also briefly caught sight of those bird silhouettes he had inked onto his ribcage, seemingly fluttering with his movements, highlighting the sharp bones; taunting me...  
  
At my sudden entrance, though, he'd gotten just as much - if not more - of a fright and had quite literally jumped up, only to fall off the other side of his new bed (Tom and I having pooled together to get him a single as a belated birthday gift), legs caught by his boxers, landing face first as his hands had instantly made to cover his crotch.  
  
"S-shit, shit, s-sorry, sorry! Fuck. O-oh God, I-I'm so s-sorry! I d-didn't hear y-you knock!" he began to apologise profusely, as I covered my eyes with my free hand - perhaps a tad dramatically.  
  
"Bloody hell," was all I could manage, absolutely lost for what to say. I could hear rustling as he clearly got up and tried to get decent.  
  
"F-fuck, I'm s-sorry. God, I'm m-mortified. I'm so s-sorry. I-I--"  
  
"Can I look now?" I asked, interrupting him.  
  
"Er, y-yes. S-sorry, Dominic. I-I--"  
  
"Here, well, I made you coffee; but apparently you're already wide awake." Eyes unobstructed now, I hastily set down his mug of coffee on the corner table by his bed.  
  
"T-thank you. I'm s-so sorry, I-I don't k-know--"  
  
"I'm just sorry I didn't knock," I said, finally looking back at him, his boxers now thankfully pulled up. He'd even gone to the trouble of pulling on a t-shirt that had no doubt been lying about. His blue hair was puffed up in every direction, as he bit down nervously on his bottom lip with his skew teeth, long, bony fingers knotting in the hem of the black tee, which he was pulling down over his crotch. "Well, best you get ready, we're already running late for work."  
  
I heard a last stuttered "I'm s-so s-sorry, Dominic!" as I left and quickly closed the door behind me. The brief flash I'd seen upon entering the room, forever burnt into my retina.  
  
Today was definitely going to be a long one.  
  
***  
  
"Erm, where should I put these?"  
  
I looked up from where I was doing some stock taking on my laptop, to find Matthew staring questioningly at me, holding up a couple ancient LP's whose sleeves were definitely looking worse for wear. The sight of his long, spidery fingers curled over them was what had me staring a bit longer than required, though, the thought of what they'd been doing this morning unfortunately at the forefront of my mind.  
  
"Uh... Here, why don't you just give them here, or - actually; better yet - would you mind maybe seeing if you could do some repairs to the sleeves? There should be some tape lying about back here," I managed, tearing my eyes away from them to look instead up at his bright blue eyes.  
  
"O-okay cool," he nodded, also still awkward and uncomfortable around me, as he scurried behind the counter and searched for the tape.  
  
As he then sat in the corner, I couldn't help but glance over at him, the store was fairly empty and Alex, one of the guys who worked here, was ready to assist anyone who needed help. Basically it was yet another slow, boring day; meaning this sudden odd desire to stare at the kid was easy to accomplish.  
  
He was hunched over the little desk, his pink tongue sticking out from between his small lips in concentration, as he lined up and fixed the ripped and torn sleeves. He had a black beanie on today, over his shock of blue hair, tufts of the stuff poking out from beneath, sharp shoulders highlighted by the thin, grey long-sleeved tee he was wearing.  
  
Shaking my head, I chastised myself to look away, but before I could - clearly feeling my gaze - Matthew turned back and his bright azure gaze met with my own. Catching me staring, his sharp cheekbones instantly flushed bright pink and he quickly looked back down at what he was doing, self-consciously bringing up a hand to make sure his beanie was still properly in place.  
  
A long day indeed.  
  
***  
  
When I returned from getting lunch, Matthew unsurprisingly not having wanted anything, I found him busy organising one of the top shelves in the Alternative section.  
  
His task had him reaching up and of course this just had to lead to his top rising and so revealing, between the band of his checkered navy boxers, which poked up higher than his black skinnies, and hem of the tee, the spotless alabaster of his lower back. The sight instantly brought up memories of a night I wish had never happened and I could never forget.  
  
"Dom, you're back, lunch nice I take it, but how come you're just standing there?!" Alex greeted from the other side of the store, making Matthew jump in fright and turn around at the fact I'd so obviously been standing behind him for quite a while now. Fuck, busted again. Seriously, what the fuck?  
  
"Oh, it was good thanks. I trust everything's been alright here?" Trying to ignore Matthew's stare, I just answered Alex and scuttled off to go chat with him for a bit. Any excuse not to have to be around the kid any longer; my mind still reeling with all those images of him.  
  
***  
  
Eventually, though, the time I'd been dreading came and Matthew and I had to catch our bus back together, before walking the last block or so home. Brilliant.  
  
Surprisingly, though, he never said a thing the whole bus ride. He simply sat next to me in silence, his hands resting on his skinny thighs as he stared out the window, bony fingers tapping out some beat.  
  
Then, when we walked side by side, in the brisk breeze, he still never said a word, but I caught him sneaking glances at me every now and again. Uncomfortable, I had to say something, if only to fill the awkward silence.  
  
Opening my mouth though, he quickly beat me to it, clearly also sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere between us.  
  
"I'm so sorry about this morning!"  
  
Raising my eyebrows slightly, I looked back at him, surprised that he was bringing up  _that_ of all things to fill the silence.  
  
"I-I, well, I thought you would still be busy with breakfast and talking to Tom or whatever, I... I didn't think you'd come in so soon. Especially without knocking... Anyway, what I'm trying to say, is that I'm really, really sorry; I feel so embarrassed about what happened..."  
  
"Er, yeah, um... well I'm sorry I didn't knock. I should've. So, uh, I guess I'm sorry too? Let's, uh, let's just forget this morning. It never happened, okay?" I suggested, coughing awkwardly, my hands firmly shoved in my jacket pockets.  
  
"O-okay, yes. Thanks." We walked a bit in silence before he continued. "Thank you. For everything. I can't say it enough. I've been nothing but a nuisance and pain in your side from the very beginning. I don't know how I'll ever make it up to you..."  
  
Surprised by the turn in conversation, I looked back at him. His own hands were also buried in his jacket's pockets, his head ducked down as he stared down at his scuffed old converse and beanie pulled down over his ears. It was a surprisingly chilly day for this time of year.  
  
"Don't worry about it," was all I said, not quite sure of what exactly to say. The kid had had a hard time too; if I'd learnt anything over the past few months, it was that he was just a victim of circumstance. He wasn't an inherently spiteful person; just someone's lost and unwanted child.  
  
***  
  
"Where's Matthew?" Tom asked a few days later, having popped into the music store on his lunch break, bringing sandwiches with him.  
  
"Gave him the day off," I shrugged, before unwrapping my sandwich, stomach growling hungrily.  
  
"Really?" Tom asked, surprised, opening his own, Matthew's lying alone on the counter.  
  
"Yeah, he wanted to see an old friend and he's been really good lately, so I figured I'd give him the benefit of the doubt. It has been practically two months after all," I replied, before biting into my rather sizeable BLT.  
  
Tom just raised an eyebrow sceptically. "I thought he didn't have any friends... Are you sure it isn't one of those users? Or, even worse," at this Tom lowered his voice, careful that only I would hear. "One of those men who were... _paying_ him?"  
  
"Hmm, well. I should hope not. He said it was Chris, a bloke he'd mentioned way back even when he was still James," I said, swallowing.  
  
Tom still didn't look particularly thrilled with the idea, but nodded. "He is 19, I guess. We have to start trusting him, after all how else will he ever get back on his feet?"  
  
"Precisely."  
  
When Tom eventually left, both of us having just split Matthew's sandwich while discussing when he and Angie were going to have their wedding, I thought it best to give Matthew a ring. I had to trust the kid, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to check on him.  
  
When he didn't answer I began to worry, glancing at my watch to check the time, before grunting at the uselessness of the action. What time was appropriate to get high off your face and be fucked by strange men for cash, anyway?  
  
I still had two hours left before I could lock up, so I was just left to tap my foot anxiously, after he hadn't picked up the second time I'd tried to call.  
  
Just when I was about to lose it, my phone rang, Nirvana's All Apologies filtering from my trouser pocket as my phone vibrated slightly. Matthew's assigned ringtone.  
  
"Matthew? Why didn't you pick up when I called you?!" I demanded before he could even speak himself.  
  
"Er, sorry, Dominic. I was... I, uh, I didn't hear my phone. Sorry," came back his rushed speech. Despite the nervous edge to his voice, it sounded fluid enough; he didn't sound inebriated.  
  
"What are you up to, Matthew?" I asked suspiciously. After all there had to be a good reason for why he hadn't heard his phone.  
  
"Um, just, er, with Chris is all. The music in here is pretty loud." Listening now to the background feed filtering in from his side of the line, I could hear what sounded like heavy metal, but there was also a strange buzzing sound, which gave me goosebumps.  
  
"Matthew... what _are_ you up to?" I asked again, suspicion only rising.  
  
"Just, er, hanging out with Chris. Look, Dominic, can I go now? Chris was halfway through telling a story..."  
  
Wanting to know more, but knowing I had to give him the benefit of the doubt, I sighed and said goodbye, after warning him he had to be back home before the sun went down.  
  
I was then left with a nagging at the back of my mind, but I knew I had to push it aside, I had to start trusting the kid. He was just so vulnerable and impressionable, though, I couldn't help but worry about him. For him.  
  
But trust, he deserved it, just as much as my concern. He has to be able to be self-sufficient at the end of the day and capable of making the right decisions, if he is ever to be able to make a life for himself. He will never develop the independence if I just baby him all the time. He's right; he isn't a child, I should stop treating and thinking of him as such.  
  
***  
  
"See, back before the sun's even set! There was no need to fret," came Matthew's greeting when he eventually came home, plonking himself alongside me on the sofa and kicking his scuzzy and faded (once black I'm sure) converse off, the 'charming' scent of his feet hitting me instantly. There were after all downsides to having made up with him. Clearly.  
  
"Bloody hell, your feet are rank!" I gasped, making a noisy display full of fake gagging and coughing.  
  
"Oi, they're not that bad!" he objected, supposedly affronted, before swiftly twiddling his holey-sock-covered toes in my face, his back now lent against the opposite armrest.  
  
"Ew, stop that, you!" I flailed and batted them away, the kid finally giving up to just sit back like a normal(ish) person.  
  
"Such a drama queen," he muttered playfully, causing me to raise an eyebrow incredulously. Where had all this sudden confidence come from?  
  
Sure we'd been starting to get on more and more lately, but the sudden sense of familiarity forming between us was still something new. I guess it was good to see him finally settling, although still very skinny, he did indeed look a whole lot healthier lately too. His skin had a bit more colour and I couldn't help but note the way in which he also came across as far happier and spent less time locked up in his cave-like room.  
  
"Excuse you!" I huffed, looking away from the TV and back at him properly for the first time. Something looked a bit different about him...  
  
"What?" he asked, squirming a little under my scrutiny.  
  
"Your ears, I don't think I've ever really seen them before..." I said, shrugging, as I picked out what was different. The strands of his hair usually hung over them, but currently the mess of blue over his left ear was pushed behind it, revealing a whole load of metal, even including a small little rod through the cartilage at the top. "And how the fuck do you get through a metal detector with all that shit?"  
  
Cheeks instantly flushing, Matthew made to cover the ear with his hand, only to wince when he knocked it. "Shit," he muttered, giving up on covering it up. "And just fine if you must know," he defended himself.  
  
"Looks pretty sore though," I pointed out, now taking it all in properly. Aside from the little rod at the top, connecting from one side to the other, he had a standard earring - a tight, silver ring on the lobe - and another ring that went through the inner curve of cartilage near the hole to his ear canal. The area around this last silver ring looked red and angry. "That one infected?"  
  
"N-no, it's just, er, new is all," he said nervously, like he would be in trouble for having gone and gotten another piercing.  
  
I just raised an eyebrow though. "I thought you went to Chris' today though?"  
  
"Uh, I did..."  
  
"So what, he went with you then, or...?" I pressed. I was getting a bit nosy, but then I had to know where he'd been. He deserved my trust, but I also deserved to know the truth. I worried about him after all. And if this Chris person wasn't a good influence...  
  
"Er, something like that..."  
  
"Okay, what's with the secrecy?" I asked, sitting up a little straighter.  
  
"Um... W-well, I-I actually wanted t-to ask you s-something; see Chris is a-a, er, tattooist..." he replied, nervous, as he fidgeted awkwardly with the hem of his black, long-sleeve t-shirt.  
  
"Your friend Chris is a tattoo artist?" I asked, both eyebrows now raised to my hairline. Well that at least explained the background noise I heard over the phone.  
  
"Er, y-yeah, he's the one w-who did all my work..."  
  
"So he's not really your friend then, is he? Just someone who tattooed you, even when you were also no doubt underage too... Just as long as he got paid?" A bit harsh, granted, but I didn't like the direction things were taking.  
  
Matthew really needed to learn what a real friend actually was...  
  
"No, it's not like that! Sure I may have gotten him to do one or two before I was exactly of legal age, but he really is a true friend! In f-fact... well, um, I'm going b-back tomorrow--"  
  
"You are, are you?" I asked, frowning and crossing my arms, having now switched into this protective mode I've developed the past couple months.  
  
"Well, I-I was gonna ask y-you first of c-course," the kid reasoned, suddenly loosing what brief little gust of confidence he'd mustered up there for a second.  
  
"Sure you were." I didn't like coming off as a strict parental figure, but considering his recent history, I couldn't exactly be blamed for being upset that he'd been holding back information from me.  
  
"J-just let me finish. I-I was gonna ask, seeing as t-tomorrow is our day off and we d-don't have work, i-if you'd may-maybe like to c-come with and me-meet C-Chris? C-clearly y-you don't a-approve, but h-he's the o-only other person I h-have in my l-life aside from y-you and T-Tom."  
  
Great, I'd just succeeded in reducing him back to his nervous stutter in full - and right after such a good start -  worried that he was up to no good behind my back again, when he'd just actually wanted me to meet someone special to him.  
  
Sure I didn't approve of the man - 'cause clearly he wasn't even Matthew's age then if he was a tattoo artist already - he'd only assisted Matthew on one of his seemingly many addictions, drugs not being his only vice. At 19, the kid certainly had a lot of tattoos for his age and was extremely vulnerable and things seemed like he was being taken advantage of. But if I've learnt anything over the past several months, it's that nothing is always as it first seems.  
  
And if he really has been a friend to Matthew, where I previously have failed him and where others continue to, then he deserves a chance.  
  
Matthew was biting his bottom lip, looking at me with big, anxious blue eyes, nervous for what I would say next.  
  
"Fine. Okay, you can go tomorrow and I'll come too then, if he means so much to you I may as well meet him," I sighed, nodding.  
  
"T-thank you so much, Dominic!" Matthew said, pulling me into a grateful hug without thinking, before realising what he was doing and instantly letting me go. He'd gone bright pink, as he awkwardly shrunk back into his side of the couch. "S-sorry..."  
  
" _So_ , that must hurt a lot, yeah?" I asked, hurriedly saving him (and myself) and changing the topic, pointing to his new piercing.  
  
"Er, um, n-not really? Well at least compared to the others... The rook was probably the worst," he shrugged, cheeks still pink, but his eyes seemed to be sending out a silent 'thank you'.  
  
"'Rook'? Which is that? The funny rod thing?" I asked, genuinely curious, only for him to shake his head.  
  
"Nope, that's an industrial piercing," he explained, and wait, was that actually a small smile curling his mouth?! "The rook's on my right ear." With that he brushed the interfering hair behind his right ear too.  
  
"Bloody hell, how many piercings do you have?" I asked, three more making themselves known. A ring on the shell of his ear, near the top; the one I suddenly recalled my tongue coming into contact with _that night_ , another then on the little bump of cartilage in front of the hole leading to his ear canal and the last, two little, silver stud balls screwed in either side of the fold of cartilage below the top curve of the shell of his ear.  
  
It was the last he pointed at. "Only six. And here, this one's the rook; it went through an extra thick bit of cartilage."  
  
"Ouch, why subject yourself to that?" I asked, absentmindedly leaning over to gently flick the ball of the ring on the little, middle nub of cartilage.  
  
"That's a tragus piercing," he explained, a slight shiver running through his skinny frame at the, no doubt weird, sensation (at least I hope that's the reason). "And I did it 'cause I like the way it looks and, if I'm being completely honest, the idea of my jewellery being an actual physical part of me is pretty cool."  
  
"You're a strange one," I laughed, flicking it again to punctuate my point, but part of me did it just to see that shudder again. The sight of goosebumps rising along the pale skin of his neck strangely fascinating.  
  
"Says you," he scoffed, looking (disappointedly?) at me as I moved back to sit properly on my side of the couch. I needed to distract myself with the TV again. But when I turned to look at it, he spoke again. "Oh, Dominic, also, um, I, uh, m-may as well tell you n-now..."  
  
Great, he was stuttering, clearly nervous again about something. Not the best of starts.  
  
"Yeah?" I asked, half glancing away from whatever nature documentary about seals was on, to look back at him.  
  
"I, er, b-booked with C-Chris, as in, I, uh, h-have an appointment... He s-said he could f-fit me in t-to finish the birds I h-have on my r-ribs."  
  
Oh great. Not only was I going to meet someone I already didn't particularly like the sound of but would have to be nice to on the kid's account, but now I'd also have to attempt to not think about the way those birds had fluttered over his sharp bones with his heavy breathing, as he'd jerked himself off the other day.  
  
Somethings were just hard to forget, and trust me, I'd tried. I'd thought we'd overcome the awkwardness. How stupid of me.


	10. Chapter 10

"Matthew!" a large man with closely shaven hair and impressively muscled arms, adorned all over with ink, beamed over at us as the kid led the way into the store.

At first looks, Chris' tattoo parlour looked like any other tattoo shop one would see scattered all over the country, but when we got inside it was to find a warm and friendly atmosphere, the shop spotless and furnished with comfy black couches, as well as the expected work stations towards the back, pictures of some of the artist's work covering lots of wall space, as well as a large desk out in front, heavy metal pouring out speakers situated all over the shop.

It was that warm, friendly atmosphere (despite the choice in music, which was admittedly actually rather fitting) and spotlessness that I was pleased to see the store had, which made me pause a little though. It was certainly better than any of the other shops I'd been to with mates in the past. First point to Chris.

"Hey, Chris," Matthew greeted the giant of a man, who'd come over to pat him on the back in greeting, making me fear for his scrawny frame taking the impact of such large hands. The kid of course tried to cover up the way he did actually stumble slightly, as they then shook hands, Matthew's long skinny one disappearing in the man's large grasp.

"Glad to see you could come after all! I did save you this time slot and all, 'cause you just know how busy we are on a Sunday," Chris grinned with a wink, before just simply picking Matthew up in a large bear hug, clearly deciding he needed more.

I almost giggled at the sight, Matthew's small body enveloped by muscle, skinny, little legs dangling uselessly in the air, before Chris put him back down.

"Oh, and this must be your friend Dom, right?" Chris asked, laying his eyes on me for the first time.

"W-well, er, um," Matthew's cheeks stained bright with blush in response.

"Er, Dominic," I smiled awkwardly, rather correcting with my full name, as I thrust my hand out. What on earth had Matthew told the man about me? About us?!

"Good to meet you! I'm Chris," he grinned, his large hand grabbing mine in a strong shake.

I just nodded, uncomfortable still, when he let go, before discreetly trying to rub some life back into my hand.

"Oh, Matty sweetheart, you came!" a female voice suddenly called out, a slight woman with shoulder length, brown hair which had bright red highlights, appeared as if from nowhere, pulling Matthew into a big hug too.

I just awkwardly rocked on my feet as I watched her shower his face with kisses.

"K-Kelly, I was here only yesterday!" he pointed out, clearly embarrassed, his cheeks brightly flushed.

"I know that, dear, it's just always so good to see you. Plus I'm pleased you could make it in the end! Speaking of which, how's the new Daith piercing doing, lovie?" she asked, proceeding to sweep back his hair to check out his latest piercing.

"I-it's all good, Kels, after all you did it, remember," Matt assured her, trying to duck out of her hold.

"That's true!" she giggled, before turning to face Chris and I. "Oh, hello, you must be Dom!"

Most likely blushing a bit now myself, I just nodded, not having it in my heart to correct her too, after seeing what a sweet person she appeared to be.

"Well I'm Kelly, Chris' wife," she grinned, coming over to give me a warm hug. I hugged her back nervously, still uncertain of what they'd been told about me.

Upon closer inspection, I could see that she too had a few tattoos, as well as a nose and eyebrow piercing, her ears were also filled with more studs and rings - of various shapes and sizes - than Matthew's.

"It's so good to meet you at last, so that I can thank you in person for taking in Matty," she smiled warmly, pulling me into another hug. "You have no idea how grateful we are."

"U-um, yeah, s-sure it was no problem. I could hardly leave him out alone with no money or shelter," I shrugged, cheeks still heated.

"Yeah, thanks, mate. It's good to know that not everyone out there's an arsehole. His parents should be ashamed," Chris nodded, a dark, hard look crossing his eyes. I just swallowed and nodded.

When I looked over at Matthew, it was to see him quickly look away from me, yet another tint of pink gracing his sharp features.

"Well, come on then, Matty, let's get your ink finished," Chris said, his dark eyes going warm and liquid again, as he gave Matthew's scrawny shoulder another thump.

"Can I get you boys anything to eat or drink? I just put the kettle on and I recently baked a batch of shortbread?" Kelly offered, smiling all kindly at us.

"I'd love some, dear," Chris nodded, giving her a peck, before leading Matt to a station at the back.

"Matty, sweetheart? You're ever so skinny, we need to fatten you up a bit, so actually you don't get a choice! I may even have some leftover cake from when Alfie and I made one a couple days ago. And you, Dom? What can I get you, you're a bit thin yourself?"

Seeing that I wasn't going to get out of this one too easily, I just smiled and said I wasn't fussed with whatever she chose.

Just before she could leave, though, a young girl came charging out of one of the doors at the back of the shop, followed by a boy, both coming to a halt when they saw it wasn't just their parents downstairs.

"Ava, Alfie, come on, help your mum make some tea. Dad has to work," Kelly called, trying to herd them back upstairs.

"But, Mum! Matt's here!" the boy argued, Matthew waving hello to the two eager kids as they quickly charged him.

"They just love Matty, he's ever so good with them. Why just yesterday the three were at the Xbox for hours on end, until I had to physically pry the kids off so they could do some homework," Kelly laughed, the two of us having walked up to that awkward middle, between the door which led upstairs and Chris setting up, with Matthew listening to the kids, who were smiling and excitedly talking away to him.

Suddenly I felt awful about my accusations and thoughts of what Matthew had been up to yesterday that had kept him away for so long.

"Er, you don't say. I had no idea he was, um, so good with kids," was my lame response, as I awkwardly shrugged and stuffed my hands into the pockets of my trousers.

"Yes, well, he really is; you should see him with the younger two! A heart of gold that boy has, granted that, yes he's very shy and has a few demons," at this she looked at me carefully, gauging my response, "but then who can blame him? He hasn't lived the easiest of lives and he's recently only just turned 19!"

I could only nod lamely. So did this mean she knew about Matt's drug use? Well I suppose she knew a kid searching to get tattoos from a fairly early age had to have some issues, seeing as one had clearly not been enough and he'd kept coming back for more.

"Can I ask you something, um, Kelly?" I asked, choosing to rather confront her instead of the burly man Chris had turned up to be like the coward I admittedly am.

"Of course," she smiled, looking away from Matthew and the children, Chris still setting up.

"Why did Chris do some of the work on Matthew before he was legal? He was - still is in a way - just a kid... I mean, you two seem like lovely people and all, I don't want to insult you, but--"

"It's okay, relax, Dom," she smiled, her expression perhaps even more impossibly warm now. "I'm glad you asked actually, it shows that you really care about him."

"Um, well, er..."

"Well, he came in one day and Chris of course knew straight away that he was too young, but he could also tell something was up. He knew Matt's kind; they don't tend to give up. He knew if he didn't do the work, Matt could easily find someone else who would... There's also the fact that Chris used to be rather friendly with his brother Ben; they went to the same school."

"Seriously?" I asked, this coming as surprising news.

"Yeah, they had a fallout a few years before Chris and I got this place, and even though several years had passed, he still recognised Ben's little brother. When he confronted Matt about his actual age, he actually felt sorry for the kid and knew he trusted himself a lot more than the seedy types of places that don't ask questions. Chris usually charges bare minimum to Matt, if anything, despite Matt's protests in the beginning, and they get on ever so well and I guess this way Chris has kind of managed to keep an eye on him. He has such a big heart, my man does. He worries for Matty. We both do. We tried to help him as best we could, but with four kids of our own, it's not easy. Matty's just such a lost little soul," at this I nodded.

"Oh, I understand... He really is a determined person, if ever there was one. 'No' doesn't come easily to him," I added, beginning to understand things better and feeling even worse for my previous presumptions.

"I'm just glad he found you, Dom. He needs someone to help look after him and actually care. You're a good man," she smiled, squeezing my arm, before heading over to collect the children and lead them off.

If I'd felt uncomfortable before, I certainly felt so now. I didn't deserve their praise; I wasn't a good man. In fact I was anything but. If only they knew.

They were the good people, not me.

"Okay, Matt, up," Chris instructed, as I walked over to the two of them, the large man patting the reclined leather chair the kid was meant to lie on, which was covered with plastic, black gloves now covering his hands.

Quickly yanking his top off, Matt threw it on a nearby chair and climbed up, stretching his skinny body out. When he saw me looking, his cheeks tinted some more.

Chris noticing me standing around awkwardly too, told me to just grab a nearby chair.

Seated close to Chris, I looked on as he used some water and odourless soap to clean the skin where Matthew's half finished bird tattoo was, before he spread some ointment over it all too.

"Best not to get it infected," Chris explained to me, before looking down at the kid. "How you feeling? Glad we can finally get this thing finished at last? It's been well over a couple months since I did the stencil."

"Excited, I can't wait to see what it will look like done, I already love it as it is unfinished even," Matthew nodded, wiggling a bit to get comfortable as Chris picked up the tattoo gun.

I had to agree that the little birds looked like they'd come out lovely, if what was already there was merely the stencilling. My last memories of seeing them, however, were less than pleasing to remember.

Matthew passed out, drugged and half dressed and then again when I'd caught him masturbating...

Shaking my head, I tried to wipe the thoughts from my head, to find that Chris had begun, the buzzing of his gun loud and mixing with the music playing in the background, in the otherwise empty store - granted it was a Sunday, that wasn't too surprising - as the needle worked hard and fast, piercing Matthew's fragile looking skin.

Shuddering a bit at the sight, my eyes chose to rather drift up along Matthew's scrawny body. He really did look too skinny to be healthy, his sharp bones all pushing up against his ghostly pale skin in a way that looked almost uncomfortable, but still better than around the time of his birthday. With his shirt off, my eyes briefly took in some of the other splashes of ink on his body. Taking in the sight of those two black and red stars gracing the inside of either hipbone, just peaking over his black skinnies' waistband, a blue and white double star in the crease of his right elbow and the lettering over his right collarbone, the words finally legible.

Stay strong.

I felt my heart drop, as I awkwardly shuffled about in my seat.

My eyes then rose to look at his face, trying to ignore the way his dark, little nipples had raised, hardened in the fresh air, to rather instead actually reach his face and see the way his eyes were screwed shut, as his teeth clenched onto his bottom lip; a typical nervous display technique of Matthew's.

I don't know what made me do it, perhaps it was all the built up guilt or the way he looked so small and breakable stretched out like that, but before I realised I was doing it, I moved my chair around to his other side and reached out to hold his clenched hand.

His eyes instantly snapped open, deep blue turning to look back at me confusedly, yet gratefully. I just shrugged and smiled back at the unasked question I knew both of us would very much like to know the answer to. Rosy cheeked, he cracked his own smile in my direction, as I then squeezed his hand.

"So, Dominic, tell me something about you. I'd love to know more," Chris suddenly asked, breaking the strange moment, as he dipped his needle in more ink, his eyes glancing up briefly to look searchingly back at me.

"Um, er, well, what would you like to know?" I asked, looking away from Matthew and instead at Chris. The kid squeezed my hand tighter when I'd been about to let go. Getting the message, I halted withdrawing my hand and continued to hold his own as Chris and I began chatting away.

***

When Matthew's tattoo was eventually finished, Chris wiped the mess of ink away for the last time to reveal beautifully intricate birds in flight over his lower left ribcage, before then applying some more ointment and bandaging it up. He also then provided the kid with a tube of ointment for aftercare. Instead of then saying goodbye and waving us off, Kelly and Chris insisted that we stayed for lunch, her saying that some cake and shortbread was not nearly enough and that we, quote 'needed some proper food too'.

Of course this then led to Matthew, Chris and the kids having a few rounds on the Xbox afterwards; Kelly taking her opportunity to get to know me, too, as I ended up with one of the younger children sleeping on my lap, her playing with the other.

Now, though, several hours later, Matthew and I were sat on the sofa at my house, watching old Sherlock reruns, both keeping to our sides as perusal, before I felt his gaze heating the side of my face.

"Yes, Matthew?" I asked, finally giving in and turning to face him. He was seated cross-legged, mismatched socks on his long feet and that grey jersey of his hanging loosely off of him, a few holes having formed around the neckline due to wear and tear. We'd probably have to go out and get him new clothes sooner or later, considering the paltry amount he owned, let alone the state of most of them.

"Um, er..." For the umpteenth time today his cheeks flushed slightly, as he looked at me through his blue fringe with his even more vivid blue eyes.

"Yes?" I prompted, a small smile forming on my face. Why did he look so nervous all of a sudden?

"I-I, er, just, um, w-wanted to thank you for, um, today," he spat out in a flurry of rushed stutters that came shooting at me, only making my smile curl even more.

"Oh, uh, sure, I'm glad you introduced me to Chris and Kelly. I'm pleased you were willing to let me meet the people who are important in your life," I nodded, confused why he should be nervous for thanking me for something I'd liked doing myself.

"Um, y-yeah, t-thanks for that, but, uh," at this his cheeks seemed to stain a bit darker as he looked down at his toes awkwardly, his teeth worrying at that bottom lip of his. "W-what, I, er, I, meant was... thankyouforholdingmyhand."

My eyes must have blown wide as I tried to process the speeding bullet of words he'd presented me with. When I didn't immediately respond, his eyes flashed back up at me, bright, nervous blue, the part of his lip he was biting, losing its colour.

"Oh. Oh," I nodded, taking in what he was truly thankful for. "Sure, uh, don't mention it," I nodded, not quite sure of what to say in response. I still wasn't quite so sure myself why I'd done it.

"It-it meant a lot," he added, sinking self-consciously into the couch, pretending to be more interested in the TV all of a sudden.

I just nodded, watching the way he winced a bit then when he turned to change his position to put his feet under his bum.

"Er, you okay?" I asked, still facing him.

"Um, yeah, yeah. Just the tattoo," he replied, shooting me a sheepish look as he tried to get comfortable.

"Ah, okay," I nodded again, before finally turning back to the TV.

***

Two week or so later, I was lying sprawled on the couch, having spent all afternoon and evening helping Tom pack his things in boxes as he was due to move into a new two bedroom he'd recently bought with Angie.

It had always been a matter of time and it would be weird not to have my best mate about all the time, I certainly wouldn't miss his cooking nights though, or the loud music from his silly computer games he'd play at all hours of the night. His warm, friendly mannerisms and patience and wicked sense of humour, however, would be missed greatly.

I also couldn't deny it would be strange trying to adjust to a house with just Matthew and I, not to mention the added strain on rent for myself. With his new job, the kid didn't earn nearly as much as he used to and even then could hardly have been expected to find the kind of money Tom had used to supply, let alone earning the peanuts he does now.

"When is Matt coming home again? It's nearly twelve," Tom asked, having sprawled out on the old armchair, but now glancing at his watch.

Matthew had finally been released from his 'grounding' last week, considering his easy cooperation and turnaround attitude, so had also been encouraged by Tom and I to head out at last and make the best of it, considering it was good ol' Friday night. But we'd just stipulated that he try his best to be back before midnight and not get up to anything he shouldn't, as well as that he was to also avoid and stay away from his old 'friends'. The thing was, Tom was right, it was indeed now only a few minutes to twelve...

"I don't know, he should be back soon..." I replied, having also looked at my own watch. "Should we be worried? Were we too quick to remove his restrictions? What if he wasn't ready?"

Suddenly I felt rather worried. I hadn't realised how late it had gotten and had actually expected that he'd have returned long before midnight, considering his reluctance to go out in the first place. What if something had happened? If he'd fallen off the rails again?

"Relax, Dom, I'm sure it's fine. He probably just lost track of time, is all. He's young. We've also got to give the kid some freedom, give him a chance to properly earn our trust back, you know?" Tom replied with a shrug.

"Yeah, I guess... You're probably right," I nodded, though couldn't help but check my watch again. Midnight on the dot. Where was he?

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm knackered after all that packing," Tom then said, getting up and popping a few joints in a loud yawn. Seeing I still looked concerned, however, he smiled understandingly. "Look, Dom, maybe give him a call? I hate to leave you waiting up like a worried mother, but the moving truck's arriving really early tomorrow morning and I need to be able to function, so I'm gonna call it a night?"

"Um, okay, sure. Don't worry, you get some rest. I'll wait a little while still."

He smiled and patted my shoulder on his way to pad over to his bedroom.

I decided that if he wasn't back by the half hour, I'd give him a call. His mobile should be on, he'd been given strict instructions to keep it as such.

In the end, though, I barely lasted two minutes before I went to go get my mobile from where it was charging next to my bed.

When I unlocked it and saw I had ten missed calls from Matthew, I nearly beat myself with my phone. Not only had it failed to charge properly, but I'd forgotten to turn it off silent and so hadn't heard him ring. Cursing, my heart racing at the possibilities rushing around and assaulting my mind with what could be wrong, I hit dial, praying that he was okay.

If something were to have gone wrong... I'd never be able to forgive myself. How could I be so stupid?

Relief instantly flooded me when he picked up after the first ring.

"D-Dominic?" His voice sounded so small and scared.

"Oh, God, Matthew. My phone was on silent. Are you okay? What's wrong?! Where are you?!" I asked, my heart rate still speeding away, the tone of his voice doing anything but slow its beating, the temporary relief I'd felt now forgotten.

He audibly sniffed through the line, before explaining that he was at one of the small parks on the far side of town.

"Okay, I'm coming to get you. Don't you dare move!" I instructed, getting up and grabbing a jacket.

"P-please don't p-put down the ph-phone, keep t-talking to me, p-please." It was said softly and pleadingly, Matthew clearly freaked out and upset. "I'm s-scared I w-won't be able to s-stop myself from g-giving in and just going b-back."

Not knowing quite what was happening, but able to guess as much, I said I'd stay on the line and be as quick as possible, rushing to grab Tom's keys and calling out to him, "Tom, I'm taking the car!", before rushing out the house and jumping in the car.

"It's okay, Matthew, I'm on my way. Just stay there, you're alone, right?" I asked, looking over my shoulder as I backed out of the driveway and onto the road.

"Y-yes, I-I ran and g-got away."

"It's alright, Matthew, you just sit tight." I didn't exactly know what to say, still a bit in the dark, as I drove as fast as I could to reach the kid.

"I-I'm s-such an idiot." At this I heard him choke back tears, some more sniffling and rustling reaching my side of the line.

I put my foot down harder on the accelerator. "Hold on, Matthew. I'll be right there."


	11. Chapter 11

"Matthew? Matthew?!" I called out, stumbling through the pitch dark park, having parked the car.

Along the way my mobile's battery had cut off, not having charged properly, so I hadn't been able to stay on the line with Matthew and now I was without a phone as I blindly tried to navigate the park in the dark. I could only hope the kid had stayed put and would hear me and answer.

Shit, goddammit, Dom! You're absolutely fucking useless tonight, aren't you?!

"MATTHEW?! Where are you?!" I called out again, before nearly wiping out on a fallen branch I hadn't seen.

"I-I'm h-here," a small voice called from somewhere on my left, prompting me to start jogging in its direction.

"Matthew, you okay?!" I asked, but got no response. "Shit," I muttered to myself, nearly walking into a tree. "MATTH--"

And suddenly there he was, sitting on a bench with his knees drawn up beneath his chin, arms wrapped around them and rocking back and forth; a position which brought back only the worst memories and instantly made me break out into a sprint for the last few meters.

Even in the dark, I could see the way tear tracks glistened as they ran down his cheeks, his teeth biting down on the side of a trembling bottom lip. Not knowing what else to do, I sat down next to him and pulled him into my arms.

"Matthew, it's okay. It's okay, I'm here, you're safe."

And just like that, it was as if he'd let go of the floodgates, snot and tears and sobs and sniffles erupting forth as I rocked him in what I hoped was a soothing manner. At first he was rigid and frozen in on himself, his body trembling, but then he started to open up and pull me closer, his bony fingers digging into my shirt as he buried his face in my shoulder and wept.

I just continued to rock us, rubbing circles into the bony expanse of his scrawny back. He felt so small and fragile in my arms. So helpless and vulnerable. The thought just made me hold him tighter.

"Yes, just let it out, it's okay, Matthew. There, there, you're safe. I've got you..." I just rambled away, trying my best to comfort him, still utterly lost as to what had devastated him so much.

After a while his gasping sobs began to slowdown and eventually fade into sniffles, his body's trembling stopping slowly too, his grip on me relaxing.

"You feel a little better?" I asked as he lifted his head, to look back at me with his tear-stained face and big watery eyes.

He just nodded ever so slightly before quietly asking, "C-can we j-just go home, p-please?"

Home.

It surprised me how much warmth I felt at him using the word 'home' to describe my house. It meant that, despite serious past errors and mistakes, Matthew still actually felt safe and stable living with me. He'd found somewhere where he could receive support and budding friendships. Somewhere he didn't have to feel so alone anymore.

"Okay, sure," I smiled down at him, helping him up as we both got to our feet.

During the entire stumble around in the dark to attempt to once more locate Tom's car, he clutched tightly at my hand, not once letting go, as if afraid of losing me. It was strange, his actions overstepping the boundaries of our relationship and the normal, but I just let it slide. Usually he'd be far too shy to attempt any such thing, but clearly he was feeling extremely vulnerable and if it was a hand he needed to hold? Well it was the least I could do. After all, he didn't really have anyone else.

He only ended up letting go once we'd found the car and needed to get in. Then for the car ride home he didn't say a word and I didn't dare ask another question; that could wait for when I got the kid back home safely. So it was only the sound of his sniffles mixed in with our breathing that filled the car, the gentle hum of the engine leading them.

When at last we arrived home safe and sound, I decided I needed to be included in on the picture. I needed to know what was going on if I were to possibly be able to help him. And when we got inside and the lights brought to sight what my eyes hadn't been able to pick up in the dark, I suddenly needed to know the details even more, my concern reaching fever pitch. I needed to know what had happened and I needed to know now.

"Oh God, Matthew, what happened?" I asked, stepping back a bit to get a better look at him.

His hair truly was a giant mess, which wasn't exactly unusual, but the fact that his navy blue shirt was torn and missing several buttons, however, was. The torn collar and half open shirt then gave way to his milky white skin, that now bore angry red marks which suspiciously seemed to form the shape of fingers pressed into his neck and throat and nail scratches, that all served in marring his previously spotless alabaster skin. The shirt was still half tucked in, which helped to pinpoint where some of the belt loops of his trousers had been ripped off, his belt now hanging awkwardly around his waist, clearly also done up hurriedly and so too loosely.

When I looked back up at his tear-stained face, his eyes all red-rimmed and watery, it was to see he had yet another nasty bruise forming, this one on his right cheekbone, his lip was also split on the same side and his nose was swelling, blood dried down along his top lip from it.

"Okay, let me make you a cup of tea and maybe you can try tell me what happened? Is that okay?" I asked carefully, leading him to sit down on the sofa.

He just nodded, curling in on himself pathetically as he sat down.

I don't think I've ever made a cuppa so fast.

When I handed the mug of tea to him, he cradled it between his hands, drawing my attention to the sight of his raw knuckles, a few looking a bit swollen too, as I took a seat next to him on the couch.

"So, what happened, Matthew?" I prompted carefully, sitting awkwardly and wanting to do something to comfort him, but not knowing exactly what. Thankfully now he'd calmed down a bit, but had also seemed to retreat more into himself, staring with absolute concentration at the mug of tea.

"I'm such an idiot," he said, barely over a whisper and without any hint of his usual nervous/upset tick of a stutter, making my skin crawl and heart drop even more.

"Matthew..." I said, reaching a hand over to squeeze his shoulder, but he flinched at the action, before looking back at me with large, frightened eyes.

"I'm sorry, I, I didn't mean to--"

"It's fine, Matthew. Don't worry," I tried to reassure him, doing my best to crack a smile, but failing miserably. Something had clearly gone very wrong. Very, very fucking wrong. "Did you use?" I asked cautiously, having finally taken in his red, puffy eyes properly for the first time. I'd just been too freaked out by the rest of his appearance at first to notice that his pupils were rather a bit larger than they should've been.

His brow seemed to furrow, his bottom lip trembling again as he nodded, his shoulders raising and pulling in on himself; he was struggling to hold back more tears.

"Oh, Matthew," I sighed, sad and disappointed. I'd thought he wasn't too badly addicted before, that he could resist; he had after all shown no signs of attempting to use again after Tom and I had intervened, yet...

"I-I didn't m-mean to!" he sobbed, tears breaking through once more, the disappointment I couldn't seem to hold back clearly filtering through to him. "T-they-they k-kinda m-made m-me," he managed through the fresh bout of tears, desperately trying to use his sleeves to wipe at the tears, only for us both to take in the fact that the one had been ripped from the cuff's button to about his elbow. At this the trembling began again, only adding to the tears.

"Matthew," I began, capturing his forearm, the sight of more nasty bruises in the shape of someone's grip forming on his delicate, bony wrist. "What happened to you? To your clothes? How did this happen? Do you even remember?! And who are 'they'?!" I was admittedly becoming rather impatient, his tears and crying getting in the way of him explaining to me what had happened. My anxiety consistently rising; he was crying even more than that awful night a couple months ago when I'd made one of the worst mistakes of my life.

He just nodded again, sniffling, the short but violent attack passing. "I-I r-remember." His eyes were now trained on my gentle grip of his arm.

"Sorry," I more mouthed than said, quickly letting go. "And the rest? Please, Matthew, tell me what happened. I'm having heart palpitations here not knowing."

Again he nodded slowly, before taking his first, long and shaky sip of tea. Preparing himself.

"I-I went to a n-nearby pub, 'cause th-that shouldn't be t-too bad, r-right? I thought I would just have a d-drink, maybe play some pool and then head back home," he finally began and I nodded, encouraging him to go on. "W-well when I was playing pool, these two girls, both around my age, joined me and we were actually having a lot of fun. Then the brunette, Sara, offered if I wanted to join them; they were going to go hang out at a friend's. I'm such an idiot..." He shook his head, long hands coming up to drag down his face, before he winced, forgetting about his injured cheek and nose.

"Hey, easy there," I said gently, taking his hands away from his injured face, curling my fingers around them in an effort to calm him down again enough to continue. The fact that his stuttering had begun to fade off again, his voice having become weak and hoarse and his hysterics having left to be replaced with a sort of grim determination to get it all out, just added to the eerie vibes I was getting.

"S-so I went. Of course. And sure enough it then turned out quite a few other people were there, in-including... including..."

"Matthew?" I prompted him as he got stuck on what he was trying to say, reaching out a hand to squeeze one of his again. His skinny, bony hand was ice cold, yet damp.

"I-including this rather large bloke, he was... was someone I-I... You know, when I... well, he... he and I... f-for drugs or c-cash... c-can't remember exactly," he swallowed, pausing to look back at me with big, pleading eyes, still shiny with tears and unnaturally enlarged pupils. They were asking me to not judge him. I was trying.

Swallowing myself, I nodded my understanding and for him to continue. At this point he looked positively ill, his skin loosing what was left of whatever little colour it usually held, but he went on.

"W-well he-he seemed set on sticking to m-me then, even when I tried ignoring him. W-when we all sat around a small fire d-drinking he insisted upon sitting next to me-- I-I should have kn-known," he broke away briefly again to put his head in his hands in an attempt to steady himself once more. I squeezed his hand again. "A-and then suddenly, a-as if things weren't hard enough, they pull out c-crystal."

I felt my heart steadily dropping, the picture beginning to fill itself in easily enough, even without his further narration.

"I... I thought you did coke and pills?" I interrupted, a lump having formed in my throat.

He just looked at me blankly, but seriously. "I-I'd only really started m-messing with crystal round about w-when you intervened."

Jesus Christ...

I could only nod awkwardly, out of my depth, as I asked him to proceed with his retelling of this evening's events.

"W-well when they noticed I wasn't doing any, Sara and Beth asked if I d-didn't use. It was so hard. My hands were trembling and it felt like I was b-battling a demon within myself. My body kept telling me I wanted some. Needed some. Badly. T-then of course B-Brian, the muscled guy, butted in and said that of c-course I did! Before promptly pushing the crack pipe in my hands... I'm so sorry, Dominic. I-I didn't want to but, but... I'm so weak." His voice sounded so small. Lost and confused. "I th-thought, fine, just one d-drag, of course Brian then made sure it came round to me more often, everyone egging me on; him practically shoving the thing in my mouth..."

His head was hung now, his hand limp in my grip, shame and disgust at himself all over his features and body language. Not knowing what else to do, I squeezed his hand again, my other hand lifting his face up to look at me.

"It's an addiction... and with the peer pressure it's hardly surprising you gave in. You're only human, Matthew."

"B-but I broke your trust," he sniffed loudly, trying his best not to cry anymore.

I just smiled back solemnly at him, my body feeling like it was acting of its own accord. "What else, Matthew? Why are you in this state? Why are you so upset, surely not just because you feel you broke your word?"

He shook his head, before trying to steel himself to continue with his story. I felt the way his hand trembled slightly in mine, but his uncharacteristicly steady voice remained, despite the few scattered stutters.

"I-I was so disgusted with myself, even as I took a long p-pull, the relief that came brought with it sh-shame and instant regret. I needed to stop. To clear my mind. A-as I felt myself s-slipping, embracing the high, I could feel Brian's hand r-rubbing and s-squeezing up my thigh - getting higher and making my sk-skin crawl - and just seeming to power my urge to g-get up and out of the circle as fast as I c-could. Despite the high, I wa-wasn't about to just sit there and allow him to f-feel me up, let alone in front of strangers. T-that isn't me. Not r-really. Not anymore."

Oh God. My heart was positively aching with dread at what he was saying, fearing for how he'd come to look like he did now even more than before.

"S-so I eventually managed to excuse myself, h-heading as fast as I could to go to the bathroom. I tried splashing water on my fa-face to help clear my mind, my head spinning and heart racing. Un-unlike before, the last times I'd used crystal, the euphoria didn't c-come, paranoia and fear w-was all I got. I can still f-feel it now."

I could too, his cold hand clammy and shaky.

"I t-tried calling you then - t-twice - but you didn't pick up... A-and t-then-then--" His voice trembled now too, the words not wanting to come out while I watched a tear fall from his eye and roll down the sharp arch of his cheekbone. He just sniffed then and wiped it away with his free hand. "T-then suddenly h-he was there - B-Brian was - and he pushed me up against the w-wall and whispered all these-these things that made my blood run cold as he tried to kiss and g-grope me."

More tears were rolling down his cheeks now, as he sniffed and tried to forge on with his story, his hoarse voice still holding strong despite his clear distress.

"I-I tried pushing him away, b-but he just laughed and ripped my shirt open a bit as he asked 'what the fuck was wrong', I used to 'l-love this'. He s-said I liked being h-his b-bitch, so I hit him. B-big mistake. He grabbed my hair and s-smacked my face into the wall - so m-much for my n-nose, eh?" His small laugh was dry and humourless, his free hand coming up to indicate his wrecked face.

I didn't want him to go on. I was afraid of what he would say next, but I had to hear him out. I'd asked him to tell me it all in the first place after all. I owed it to him to be here for him now.

"H-he then tried to get my t-trousers off as he sh-shoved me up against the wall, holding m-me in place by my collar. But I f-fought back. I fought through the haze I could f-feel clouding my senses and tried to g-get him the fuck off away from me. He fought back, b-but he'd had more than me, plus a whole load to d-drink - n-not a good combo. Eventually, though, I managed to wriggle f-free, literally crawling out of that bathroom, k-kicking and c-clawing desperately, despite my obvious lack of s-strength. I then managed to st-stagger to my feet and ran. I ran away from the house and street. I ran until I saw the p-park and then I found that bench and tried c-calling you again. And again. And a-again. The line rang and rang, but you n-never a-answered..."

"Oh God, Matthew. I'm so sorry, I'm so very sorry. I can't believe this had to happen to you and I feel just awful and horrified that someone would ever do something like that to you..." Even as I spoke, I knew words weren't what he needed, he needed proper, physical consolation, someone to erase the negative. So I stopped talking and instead just pulled him into my arms again, just as I saw his lip trembling fiercely once more and his sniffles grow back into sobs. "How long did you wait in the park before I came?"

"I-I d-don't know, m-maybe two hours? I-I d-don't-don't k-know." I just held him then, letting him cry in my arms as I once more berated my idiocy. If only I'd heard his calls, if only I hadn't more or less forced him to go out; if, if, if...

This torrent of tears didn't last as long, his mind and body tired out from coming down from his high, his adrenaline having burnt himself out and just from the whole ordeal itself. Soon he just leaned into me, his body still and no longer trembling and his breathing heavy and slow.

"I'm really sorry," I said once more, knowing how little it helped but wanting - needing - to attempt to express how I felt anyway, as I stroked his mop of sweat and tear dampened fringe off his face.

His pupils had gone smaller, his eyes still puffy, as he looked up at me with his messed up face, his nose, cheek and lip swollen.

"I-it's not y-your fault I'm an i-idiot..." His voice cracked, but he said it firmly.

"It is. I can't help but feel responsible. I should have known you weren't ready and I definitely should've gotten there sooner," I argued, holding on when he tried to pull away.

"N-no, I brought it upon myself. N-now, if you'll excuse me, I'm g-going to go shower and try clean myself off."

The definite firmness with which he said it and the strange edge to his voice, made me let go and watch on in silence as he got up and left to go shower.

I didn't dare disturb him then on my way to bed, when I could hear him crying over the sound of the running shower water. He wanted to be alone. He needed to come to terms with things for and with himself.


	12. Chapter 12

"D-Dom-Dominic, D-Dominic."

I woke up disorientated and confused, my eyes seemingly still shut tight with sleep. It felt as if I'd only just fallen asleep.

"Uhmmyeah?" I mumbled, blinking and rubbing my eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness of my room. "Matthew?"

He was standing next to my bed, bony arms wrapped around his skinny body, and in the dark I could just make out that he was wearing a pair of boxers and a baggy long sleeve.

"I-I c-can't sleep and I'm f-freaking out. P-please, D-Dominic, p-please, I know h-how w-weird this sounds, b-but can I sleep in your b-bed? I-I d-don't want to be alone. P-please, I'm sorry. I-I j-just, I j-just c-can't," he pleaded, sniffling as he wiped at his eyes with his sleeves.

It did sound like a weird enough request, but he had already slept in my bed once before, on _that night_... He also looked the definition of the word pathetic and ashamed. It had clearly taken a lot for him to actually come over and ask this of me. He was desperate and in need. What sort of person would I be if I refused him?

"Y-you wouldn't h-have to do any-anything, just being n-near someone who I t-trust's close presence will h-help. I-I'll even s-sleep at the f-foot of the b-bed or on the-the floor, whatever y-you don't mind. I-I j-just--I-I d-don't want to b-be alone, p-please, Dominic. I-I'm so s-sorry to d-dump this on y-you, I j-just--"

"Whoa, wow, relax, Matthew," I tried to soothe, hands shooting out in a sort of 'hold on' motion. "Um, uh, s-sure you can - you can sleep on the other side of my bed. It's okay, don't worry," I said, pulling up the duvet on the side next to me. "Get in."

"T-thank you s-so, so m-much. Y-you're so k-kind and I'm s-so sorry I'm j-just such a f-fuck up," he sobbed, wiping at his face again.

"Matthew, it's okay. You have every right to be upset by what happened - it was after all only a few hours ago I might add. So come on and just get in already," I assured him, shaking the duvet I was holding up for him.

He sniffled and nodded, shuffling to the other side of my bed before climbing in.

"T-thank you," he said in barely a whisper.

"Sure. Just try get some sleep," I tried smiling back at him in the dark, before turning back to face the outside of the bed.

As I felt my tired eyes slowly closing and my mind shutting down again, I could still hear him sniffling and sobbing softly into the pillow behind me.

***

At some point in the night I found myself in that strange limbo between wakefulness and sleep; when you're not fully aware of yourself and everything kind of feels like an extended dream.

I turned to find that Matthew had been closely huddled behind me. He was still awake, arms wrapped tightly around himself as he lay in what appeared to be the foetal position. Upon noticing my movement, though, he tried shuffling a bit back, unaware that I was semi-awake. His eyes were closed and he was biting on his bottom lip, but he fidgeted and trembled too much for him to be asleep.

Lost, alone, vulnerable, scared, unwanted...

The words seemed to flow through my sleep hazy mind, that when my arms reached out to grab him and pull him close, all I did was yawn and snuggle closer, sleepily rubbing his back. His body had gone stiff at first, but as I felt myself drifting back properly into sleep, I only just picked up on him cautiously beginning to hold me back...

***

I woke to the sounds of men talking around the house and furniture moving, Tom's voice calling out to offer tea and making sure the movers knew which stuff were to be left and which were to be moved.

I felt all cosy and warm, my front half particularly toasty as I began to wake up more. When I opened my eyes and came to properly, I was at first surprised to find Matthew curled up against me, his head buried against my chest and my arms wrapped around him. My heart beating faster with a bit of panic, I then started to remember last night and everything that had unfolded. I also vaguely recalled having pulled him into my arms at some point during the night.

From my position, all I could really see were tufts of his fading blue hair against my chest, the rest of his body covered by duvet and me. I could also feel warm puffs of air coming from his breathing against my bare chest, his hot body, even through his clothing, pressed up right against me.

Of course it didn't help that it was the morning and, having been without 'any', what with me having been looking after the kid instead of meeting blokes, it shouldn't have been surprising that, as usual, I was sporting some impressive morning wood.

Thankfully he was still fast asleep; I didn't want him to get the wrong impression (especially after last night's events, though - not to sound conceited - something told me he wouldn't mind). Anyway, it was also still pretty bloody embarrassing. I needed out.

So, very carefully, I tried to extract myself, the movements thankfully only causing him to mumble a bit in his sleep and grab at the duvet. Once freed, I made straight for the bathroom, stumbling slightly for having gotten up too fast and getting a bit of a head rush. Luckily the soft sounds of Matthew's sleep-filled breathing still continued unfalteringly.

When I got to the en suite I immediately closed and locked the door, and started the shower up, before realising my left hand had dropped subconsciously to start rubbing myself through my boxers.

Oh God, I had to stop, but it felt so good, my eyes were practically rolling to the back of my head. I hadn't had a good wank in ages either.

It would be a bit weird to rub one out with Matthew just in the next room - in my bed no less - _though_ , I thought biting my lip, my palm still working wonders.

_Ugh, but fuck it!_

I'd walked in on him wanking in my house anyway, at least _he_ won't have to know this way, I'll just do it in the shower quickly.

Tentatively testing the shower water and finding it perfect, I hurriedly dropped my boxers and hopped in, the warm water beating down on my back and relaxing me perfectly.

_Oh sweet, sweet heaven..._

The added bonus of my hand back to work, this time skin-on-skin, only made things even more relaxing and perfect.

I moved to brace myself with my right forearm against the tiled wall, leaving the shower water to pound deliciously on my back, as I looked down and watched my hand work.The sight of my darkened cockhead disappearing and then re-emerging from my tight fist; the contrast of the colour of skin and movement: mesmerising. Fuck, it felt good. I needed this; needed it so badly.

My eyes getting heavy as my cock seemed to get even stiffer, I felt my mind wandering... to the fact that Matthew had been naked in this very shower before.

_Shit, no, Dom, what the fuck?!_

I tried to shake the disturbing thought from my head, but I couldn't seem to stop it, my mind moving on to flash to when he'd been getting his tattoo done, the sight of his bare torso, hand tightly holding onto mine. All those tattoos highlighting his fine and sharp bone structure, curving with the movement of his body... Birds fluttering as he worked his hands between his legs, wanking himself off furiously, skinny body straining, a light sheen of sweat gathering over that flawless, alabaster skin...

"Shit!" I gasped, my hand having squeezed a bit too tightly, my mind distracted by the taboo thoughts.

_Fucking hell, Dom! What's gotten into you? Bloody hell. Your mind's clearly cooked._

Shaking my head some more, I turned the water temperature down a bit, but couldn't stop jerking myself off, the tingling of my orgasm working up my spine and making my hand work even harder. I was too far gone to stop now.

I wanted to yell at myself as I found my mind wishing I'd taken more care to look at certain key parts of his body on the two occasions I'd seen him bare. Of course both times I'd kept my eyes in check and prevented any wandering. I don't think I'd have as much self-discipline if it were to happen again.

_Jesus, Dominic, who are you even?!_

My conscience was desperately trying to pull me back, but as I reached nearer and nearer to my orgasm, it only seemed to get more and more bombarded by images and thoughts of Matthew.

Just as I felt myself tipping over the edge, my fist tightly corkscrewing the pulsing girth of my erection, the thought I'd been dreading but expecting - I wasn't foolish enough not to - hit. The memory of his pert, little arse, snowy white and impossibly tight, his hot muscles clamping down on me in such a sinfully gorgeous way, that even then I'd known I'd never be able to forget it. No matter how wrong it had been. Of course, I'd then learned I'd been his first...

Which meant I'd been the first to...

I bit into my right bicep to muffle my cry as I came, my head a toxic mess of Matthew still, the sound of his cries and moans as I'd taken him following me over the edge, in a sort of twisted serenade. 

When my mind eventually settled and I came back down I felt awful. What kind of a sick person was I?

Feeling ashamed and more than a bit embarrassed, I set to trying to wash myself as best I could, knowing that no matter how much I cleaned I would never be able to clean myself of what I'd just done. 

Not only was it weird and creepy of me, but it had also been completely inappropriate considering last night's events. Also that's not even taking into account the fact that I'd let him sleep in my bed after he woke me up to ask to do so as he was upset.

Trying to wipe the negative thoughts out of my head, I suddenly realised I'd been in such a hurry to get to the bathroom that I'd neglected to bring a change of clothes.

_Nice one, Dom._

Swallowing and bracing myself, my green towel tightly wrapped around my waist, I crept back into the room and nearly let out a sigh of relief upon finding the kid still out, fast asleep.

Though, this then led me to looking a little too long, the thoughts from my shower wank still swirling about in my mind, most likely to blame. He'd relaxed and spread out now, blue tufts of hair all over the place and covering most of his face, some fanning out a bit on the white pillowcase. It was the patch of skin, revealed by his long sleeve top having ridden up, that drew most of my attention though. I couldn't help it, but I was struggling to look away from the sight of his pale, flat stomach rising and falling slowly, those star tattoos on the inside of his hips gently following the moment. My eyes then drifted to his little bellybutton, which was admittedly cute ( _Jesus, Dom, can you hear yourself?!_ ), but that of course then only led to them following the skinny trail of sparse, dark hair which led from it and then disappeared into his boxers; most of the grey material thankfully covered by the duvet which had slid down his body.

Smacking myself, I snapped out of my admittedly pervy staring, and got to hurriedly grabbing something to wear, before going back to change inside the bathroom.

It's official. Not only am I suddenly now a cradle-snatching paedophile, but also just an advantageous creep...

***

As if I couldn't feel any worse about my behaviour that morning, I was busy sitting around and drinking tea with Tom and Angie, the movers having packed almost everything and Tom wanting to still wait and see how Matthew was doing before they left, when the kid eventually padded into the kitchen, having finally awoken.

He looked like a train had hit him, literally.

His fading blue hair was poking up all over the place, his right cheek even more swollen now and settling down to form a purpling bruise, his nose not much better off and his split lip also fat and swollen and looking painful, his eyes small and fat from having cried so much, as his hands gripped onto the sleeves of his long sleeve tee (the same he'd slept in), his legs looking painfully breakable and unsteady in a pair of his dark skinnies.

"Oh, Matt." Tom, shaking his head, walked over to the kid, lightly gripping his jaw as he brushed some of the mess of blue hair out of the way to get a better look, as he assessed his face. "Fuck, what sort of fucking bastard does something like this?!" he swore, his face reflecting the disgust he clearly felt.

"I-it's okay," Matthew whispered, brushing Tom off as he tried to step back a bit.

"No, it most certainly is not! Shit, I had no idea it was this bad, I'd thought you'd just lost track of time. But then to wake up to this truth - Dom told me all about what happened first thing - I feel so guilty for not having joined Dom in searching for you," Tom said, stepping back to allow him some of his space.

"N-no, d-don't worry. Y-you had your own life to sort out, w-without having to also now worry about me. I-it's fine; I had Dominic..." At that last bit, he looked over at me cautiously, not sure if he'd over stepped or something, but I just smiled reassuringly at him.

"I can't help but feel bad though," Tom shrugged, as Angie pushed past him to pull Matthew into her arms. Over the past few months, with Tom and her relationship getting all the more serious - what with the engagement and all - she'd been around even more often and with Matthew no longer hoarded up in his room anymore, the two had been seeing a lot of each other and had really seemed to hit it off.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, love," she said, holding him tight, his own, skinny, arms hesitating a bit before reciprocating and wrapping around her too.

Turning around, unsure of what else I was really supposed to do, I set about making him a mug of tea too.

Tea was then drank in a fair bit of silence, Angie and Tom making some attempts at conversation, before the movers called to say they were done. We then said our goodbyes and Matthew and I watched as they drove off down the street behind the moving van. It was all very surreal; after having spent the largest portion of my life living with Tom, he was now officially no longer going to always be there. I wasn't too sure if I'd ever get used to the idea, but, in that moment, despite everything in the past and present, I was actually grateful to have the kid still staying with me.

I didn't have to be as alone as I felt.

I wasn't exactly thinking things through then, when I reached out beside me and squeezed Matthew's hand, before turning and heading back inside. It had most likely come as quite a bit of a shock and was no doubt completely unexpected; probably even startling the kid, but he didn't say a word, he just squeezed back before I let go and then followed me indoors.

***

"You've barely eaten a bite of your food," I pointed out to Matthew that evening. I'd made us pasta, having noticed in the past that it was literally one of the only meals he actually ever attempted to finish. Like I've said: kid eats like a bird.

"I'm not really hungry," he replied quietly, looking down at his practically full plate.

"I thought pasta was like one of your favourites?" I continued, "I mean, I do recall you saying once - under a different name perhaps, but never the less - that Italian food was your best."

At this he lifted his head to look back at me, a faint, barely-there smile tugging slightly at his lips.

"Y-you remember?"

"But of course," I grinned, taking a sip from my glass of water. "It was one of the first things we spoke about, you know, after the whole 'you making me feel better about my break up'," I shrugged.

He nodded. "I-I didn't think you remembered..."

"Ah, but I do. So now, stop avoiding the matter at hand; why aren't you eating? You've had nothing but that mug of tea this morning, all day! Kelly's right, you need some fattening up," I said lightly, still smiling at him, as I coiled some more basil and tomato pasta around my fork.

He was blushing now, the curve of his lips finally also something properly deserving of the title of a 'smile' now.

"Now don't make any excuses," I continued to prompt, before slurping up my forkful and slapping my lips together in an admittedly ill-mannered way. "Do you want some more parmesan perhaps? Or would you have preferred pesto?"

He just shook his head, sighing, as he resigned himself to that fact that I wasn't about to let him skip a meal this time.

"Fine, fine, fine. You win." With that he then picked up his fork again and began the great feat of ingesting the plate full of (much needed) calories.

"You're so silly," I shook my head, smiling, watching him pull faces as he forced a forkful into his mouth and began to eat in a manner reminiscent of a tortoise chewing.

"Says you," he shot back, mouth full of food, as he pointed at my face, or rather my nose to be more precise.

Lifting my hand to the indicated spot, I was quick to discover that, in my messy slurp, I'd splashed tomato sauce all over my nose. Brilliant. Well at least the kid seemed to find it funny, as he snickered before reluctantly taking another bite of food.

And this made me suddenly become very aware of the fact that I wanted to see more of that; to see him laugh and bring some happiness to his fairly miserable life. Matthew deserved a little happiness and I was going to try and bring some into his life.


	13. Chapter 13

"D-Dominic," I heard the kid's voice stir me from sleep, the two of us having watched telly after our pasta feast, before retiring to bed a few hours ago. "D-Dominic, are y-you awa-awake?"

"Hmm, yeah--" I broke off to yawn loudly, "I am kinda--" another yawn, "now. What's up?" I stretched, looking blearily up at him with half shut eyes for the first time. I immediately froze mid stretch when I saw a sight very much reminiscent of the previous night's scared and upset Matthew.

"I-I'm s-sorry. I-I tried, b-but--"

"No, Matthew, it's fine. Here," still somewhat half asleep, I did my best orientating myself and lifted up my duvet on the other side for him, much like I had last night.

"T-thank you so m-much. I-I'm so s-sorry," he persisted to apologise, padding quietly in the dark, before carefully slipping inside my bed. The street lamp outside, shining a bit through the curtain, was somewhat highlighting his messed up face, shiny tear tracks glinting off the upper ridge of his sharp cheekbones, which weren't shrouded in the shadow they cast. He truly did look so fragile and breakable.

"Matthew, it really is okay. In fact I'm glad you feel like you can trust me. Remember I'm always here for you, I don't want you to feel alone anymore." The sudden outburst of concern and care just leapt forth and, even in the dark, I could see the way his teary eyes widened in disbelief. When I saw him begin to open his mouth to fumble through some or other reply, me not wanting to delve much deeper into the topic, I simply cut him off before he could even begin. "Now, let's get some sleep, hmm? I've got work tomorrow after all, but you don't have to come in for a few days if you don't feel up to it."

"D-Dominic--"

"Hush, Matthew, it's okay," and with that, my mind only half thinking things through, I automatically pulled his bony body into my arms. "We can talk about work tomorrow; for now, sleep."

He was most likely too stunned by my action to properly speak, so merely just nodded, his ridged body slowly easing into my embrace.

"Goodnight, Matthew. Try get some sleep," I said with another sleepy yawn, my eyes already beginning to shut.

"G-goodnight, Dominic," he said back softly.

 

***

 

When I awoke the next day, it was to the feeling of what I was loath to acknowledge was Matthew's morning erection pushing persistently into my thigh, from his position practically draped over me while I lay on my back. The worst of it, though, was the fact that I was sporting some morning wood myself.

Glancing down at his face, his head laying on my shoulder, I was relieved to find that he was still fast asleep, his mop of faded blue hair fanned all over his badly bruised face, his breathing deep and calm.

The thing, though, was that it felt slightly different from the previous morning. It felt oddly good to feel someone so close to me after all this time, to wake up to the warmth of another body, the steady beat of another heart. The tangibility of it all had me laying awkwardly in place a bit longer, as my senses took it all in. It felt wrong and the knowledge that it was the kid that had my heart stuttering and skin heating up, made my stomach crawl, yet I couldn't help myself.

This time I'd been clued up enough to wear a tee before heading off to bed, good thing too, as he had come looking for my help in the end, as I'd suspected he may.

I took in the way my arm had loosely wrapped around his narrow, bony waste in sleep, my fingers just brushing the warm skin revealed by his ridden up long-sleeved top. One of his skinny legs was also thrown over the right one of mine; him lying at my right side. This of course then led my conscious back to the fact that his dick was jabbing into my thigh, only separated by the fabric of his red plaid boxers.

I knew it didn't necessarily have anything to do with me; like any guy, he was most likely prone to morning wood, not to mention the fact that he was still young and riddled with over-active hormones. It was all just a matter of basic human anatomy. That didn't, however, prevent me from blushing anyway though and then rolling my eyes at my dumb reaction.

When the fingers of his right hand, which was laid out on my chest, began twitching and ever so slightly squeezing my flesh through my tee, as he burrowed his cheek a bit deeper into my chest; I knew I had to get up, before he woke up and things got seriously awkward. The question now, though, was how to extract myself without him waking, what with him practically clinging to me.

So, ever so carefully, I tried to gently pry his fingers from their clutching at my tee. He thankfully only snuffled a bit, but didn't wake, allowing for success in step one. When I tried backing up out of his embrace, however, I sadly wasn't so lucky. Step two proving to be my downfall.

As soon as his head slipped off, I'd misjudged my speed, and hit the pillow, his bright blue eyes snapped open, to look back into my wide grey ones.

"Mornin'," he croaked back in a husky, but shy, morning voice, cheeks flushing, as he tried to lift himself a bit away.

"Uh, yeah, good morning," I nodded, though I could feel my own cheeks were still heated.

His cheeks suddenly then seemed to intensify in their flushed state, his expression that of true mortification as he obviously became aware of the fact that he was practically bruising me with his hard-on.

"O-oh my God, shit, I-I'm so s-sorry, Dominic! I d-didn't mean to, it j-just happens m-most mornings. I d-don't want, uh, um, w-well, you, er, s-see--"

"Relax, Matthew. It's okay," I nodded awkwardly, as he practically curled in on himself, sitting up and pulling his legs up against himself. Of course at this point I was being very careful not to show that my body was having a very similar problem.

"This is so embarrassing," he lamented, burying his face in his hands, the red tint showing through in his ears too, his hair messed up in every direction allowing them to come into view.

"Er, it happens," I tried to shrug dismissively, patting his shoulder before hopping up and quickly turning to face away from him. "Well, I'm gonna have a shower," I shouted over my shoulder, awkwardly scurrying quickly off to the en suite in case I was found out. When I didn't get an immediate reply, I couldn't resist adding, "And don't you dare let me catch you jerking off in _my_ bed," in an attempt to clear the air.

"Oh my God," came a truly humiliated groan, just before I closed the loo door behind myself. "You're never gonna let me forget that, are you?"

"Not a chance," I called back through the door, quickly turning on the shower at full blast on cold and hurriedly shrugging my tee and boxers off, before hopping in.

Of course I then just had to squeal loudly as the absolutely bone-chilling jets of water hit my previously warm skin.

"Dominic, you okay?" I could hear the kid's voice call, concerned, through the door.

"F-fine, j-just g-got into f-fucking f-freezing water, s'all."

I could then hear his high-pitched giggle float through the door as he presumably went off to his own room. I couldn't even be annoyed, so unusual and welcome was the sound of his practically never heard laughter.

 

***

 

"You feeling better then?" I asked a small while later, the kid's hair fluffily poking in every direction, having no doubt been towel dried, as he came to join me at the kitchenette after his own shower.

"Uh, y-yeah, t-thanks again for, um, you know, l-letting me," he motioned weakly, cheeks a bit pink, so I just nodded understandingly, before taking a sip of my morning coffee.

"Of course, I'm just glad you feel you can rely on me. I don't want you to feel so alone ever again and if it's a bed to share you need? Well, what sort of friend would I be to turn you away?"

"'F-friend'?" he asked cautiously, cheeks pinkening yet more, as he helped himself to the toast I'd made him. 

"Duh, Matthew. Why else have I let you loiter around for so long?" I joked, watching him smear butter and strawberry jam all over his toast.

"Thank you, Dom," was his simple response, after a stretched out silence, as he continued to spread his toast, before setting the butter knife aside so that he could cough into his fist.

The sound of him using my nickname again made my stomach flutter oddly and so I just nodded, getting up to put my own, empty, plate in the sink.

"So, uh, you think you're up to coming in today? You can take a sickie if you want, really, Matt, it's fine." His own nickname seemed to roll almost too perfectly off my tongue and he also apparently couldn't seem to help the small curve to his lips at the sound of it.

Of course, though, I'd chosen to ask just as he'd taken the mother of all bites out of his toast - something I'd never seen him do before. Gone seemed to be the bird eating. At least for now, that is.

Crunching away on his mouthful, he could only put a hand out to show he did plan on answering, as soon as he'd swallowed. I couldn't help the giggle that escaped me though, at the sight of the red jam smeared around his mouth, making him lift an eyebrow questioningly.

"Got a bit of jam around your mouth; look like you just mauled someone," I explained, earning a playful scowl and blush all at once.

Self-consciously, he then wiped at his face with the back of his hand before swallowing.

"Better?"

I just nodded, leaning a hip into one of the kitchen cabinets, arms folded. "So, work?"

"Uh, y-yeah, please can I, er, come? I-I, um..." he swallowed again, despite the fact that I already knew he'd swallowed all his food. "I don't want to be alone..." It was said softly. Shamefully, almost. "Not yet."

"Aww, no, Matt. It's okay, don't stress," I was quick to reassure him, as he seemed to instantly lose interest in his food, staring despondently at it, his shoulders visibly slumping.

"Thanks. Yet again. Wow, I really am a fuck up, aren't I?" he asked, looking up at me with a sardonic smile, his deep azure eyes looking absolutely vulnerable and as if crying out for help and reassurance.

"No, that's not true. You've had a really hard time of it and... Well, and what happened the other night... it would throw anyone off," I tried to reassure him. "If anything, you're one of the strongest people I know."

"No," he shook his head, though he was blushing again.

"It's true," I shrugged. "Anyway, if you are coming, I suggest you hurry up and finish your breakfast." I was also quick to change the topic, knowing that it would bring up his spirits again better.

"Nah, I'm not hungry anymore," he shrugged, pushing his chair out and beginning to get up.

"Ah-uh, no. Sit down. We're not leaving until you've finished that. You've only had a bite."

"Ugh, Dom, what are you, my parent?" he grumbled, sitting down again and picking up the offensive piece of toast.

"I may as well be..." I muttered quietly to myself, pulling out my mobile to let Alex know we'd be a bit late.

 

***

 

Later on, I'd just sold an old copy of T.Rex's _Electric Warrior_ LP, when I noticed I hadn't seen the kid for quite some time. Then, spotting Alex sorting out the new releases shelf, I decided to check with him.

"You seen Matthew?" I called over to him, concerned. After everything I couldn't imagine Matthew just randomly ditching without even telling me. He'd certainly also never done anything like that in the past before either.

"Uh, last I saw of him he was double checking stock in the storeroom?" Alex replied, calling back as he shelved a stack of The Black Keys' _Turn Blue_.

"Double checking stock?" My eyebrows drew together in confusion. "I just did stock at the start of the week?"

"Well I don't know," Alex shrugged. "That's where he went when I asked what he was doing."

Suddenly my heart was thumping faster and panic was starting to set in. What if Matthew was using?

And Alex, having no idea about Matthew outside of his quiet demeanour at work, wouldn't have been any the wiser. After all he'd also just simply raised his eyebrows when I'd come in with Matthew this morning and he'd gotten a look at the kid's messed up face. Of course I'd been quick to explain it was a pub brawl, 'Oh, you know, being young; one's gonna make foolish decisions and all'. I'd even added awkward laughing...

_Keep calm, Dom. You can't afford to alarm Alex, act cool._

"Oh, yes, I, uh, remember now. I asked him to," I nodded, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, my relaxed tone clearly forced.

Looking at me like he doubted my sanity, Alex's eyebrows rose a bit, but he thankfully just shook his head dismissively and went back to work, while I tried to scuttle as fast as I could to the storeroom without looking like I was trying not to run. Fuck knows how long he's been in there for. For all I know he could even have O--

_No, Dom. Don't even. For all you know he really is just checking stock... but with what inventory sheet? I have all that shit on my PC..._

_Oh, God, oh God, let him be okay!_

When I eventually managed to make it to the back room, opening and closing the door behind myself, it was to find Matthew sitting in a curled up ball in the corner, rocking back and forth ever so slightly.

"M-Matt, you okay?" I asked cautiously, eyes darting around to look for any signs around him to indicate he'd been using. So far, it looked clear...

The sound of my voice made him jump a bit, as his head snapped up to looked back at me with wide, red-rimmed eyes.

"Y-yeah, just fine," he nodded stiffly through clenched teeth, my eyes drawing in on the fact that his bony fingers were white knuckled as they clutched onto his scrawny arms tightly, holding his knees up against his chest. The familiar position of his body, one which had never been a positive indication.

"No, Matt. Clearly you're not okay. What's wrong, did you use? Where did you get it from?" I asked a bit sternly, crouching down in front of him, so that I could grip his chin and force him to look up directly at me so I could check his eyes.

Aside from being a bit wet and red-rimmed, they looked normal...

"No, no. I didn't use! I promise!" he hurriedly explained, making me breathe out a deep sigh of relief.

"Thank God." I let go of his chin, but didn't take my eyes off of him for a second. "But then what's the problem here? Please, tell me, Matt."

Swallowing audibly, he looked back at me with his face a mask of shame. "I don't want to disappoint you though."

"Matt..."

"Well... it's not so much as that I used, but that I really, really, _really_ want to. It's been bugging me since I came down basically after all the crying and shit when you found me. And it's just been growing and growing and... Oh, God, I feel like I have no control over my own body. My mind's screaming at me to get a hit of something - anything - and I'm scared I'm losing the will to stop myself."

His speech was rapid and spat out as fast as was possibly human, but I still managed to understand every word.

"I felt ill and started shaking and Alex was looking at me weirdly, so I made up an excuse and ran here. I'm so sorry, Dominic. I'm so sorry," he sniffed loudly, wiping his wrist over his nose.

At his words, I began to notice that his scrawny body was indeed trembling a bit as he tried to hold onto himself.

"Matt, it's, uh, it's okay? I guess it's only to be expected. But you're strong enough to beat it, remember how you managed before? I believe in you. Addiction is a lifetime struggle, it doesn't just go away, you have to fight it," I tried to reassure him, moving to sit down next to him. I felt out of my depth though and like a self-righteous cunt; what the fuck did I know about drug addictions? I'd never gone through it, Matthew was the only person I knew personally to ever have one. What right did I have to preach to him about a struggle I'd never had to go through myself?

No matter how much of a fraud I felt, the kid was clearly appreciating it as he latched onto me, wrapping his arms around me before he began to sniffle some more into my jumper.

Clearly our physical boundaries had been permanently broken down, so I just held his trembling body back. His slight form fit easily in my arms.

"Matt, you can do this. I believe in you. But you don't have to put yourself through this here, let me take you home?"

"B-but w-what about work? D-don't y-you have to s-stay?" he asked, his voice mumbled against the damp cloth of my jumper, yet made no move to let me go.

"It'll be fine, it's a slow day and Alex is more than capable of looking after the store. I can just give him a little more cash for the day," I reassured him.

"C-can you r-really afford to though?" he then asked, lifting his head to look up at me. He wasn't a fool, he knew my financial situation wasn't great and now without Tom's help...

"Of course, Matt. I'd rather sacrifice a little bit of inconsequential money, you shouldn't have to suffer here. It's not fair to you," I insisted, brushing back some of Matt's long, fading blue fringe off his face, without thought. His forehead was clammy and hot. I only realised I'd done it, though, when his azure eyes grew wider and I felt like I'd perhaps actually over stepped. Probably noticing the slight panic that must've crossed my features, he glanced down before looking back up to me and actually managed to crack a smile.

"T-thank you, Dominic."

"Er, it's okay, don't stress now," I assured him, rubbing his back in what I hoped was a soothing manner, worried by the fact that he was still trembling. "Think you can get up?"

"Y-yeah," he nodded so, my arms still holding him securely, I helped pull him up with me as I stood. His shaky body was definitely even more dodgy when he got to his feet, but I had him, as he clutched on.

"Ready to go home?"

"P-please. I f-feel sick."

Supporting Matt, I led him back into the shop, no one was around except Alex, who was busy playing games on his mobile.

"Alex, can I ask you a big favour?" I called, startling him, as he hurriedly jumped up straight and shoved his mobile in his pocket and looked over at us, his eyes seemingly growing even wider when he took in the state of Matthew.

"Y-yeah?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Matthew's, uh, feeling unwell and I kinda, um, need to take him home. Would you mind taking over for the rest of the day and then lock up? I'll pay you extra, of course," I asked nervously, wondering what the fuck he must think about the whole situation.

"Um, er, sure? Is, uh, is he okay?" Alex asked, concern crossing his features.

"Shit, thank you so much! Um, he will be, I just need to take him home... he's, er, coming down with a fever." I hated to lie, and well, it wasn't exactly false? Even now I could feel the way Matthew's hands were all clammy, his skin pale and eyes becoming unfocused as he shivered in my arms.

"Oh, um... okay. See you tomorrow then, Dom?"

"Er, yeah. Thanks so much and sorry about it."

"It's okay, Dom. And, um, feel better, Matt," Alex waved awkwardly, Matthew trying to crack a smile which came out more as a grimace, as I waved back and we left.

To say the trip back home via public transport was uncomfortable, would have been an understatement, our fellow commuters shooting us weird looks the entire way. I did my best to ignore them though, I just supported Matt's shaking body and when, at last, we finally made it home, I'd rushed him inside and straight to bed.

I'd had to then help rid him of his jacket and undo his shoes and take them off for him, his trembling fingers unable to do the job. The awkward part came when I realised I'd probably have to help with his trousers too, his fingers busy fumbling uselessly with the button.

"Would it, uh, be okay if I, um, helped with those too?" I asked awkwardly.

"T-thanks," he managed, before lying down to help me out.

"So, uh, how you feel?" I asked, speaking to cover how awkward I felt about what I was doing, as I popped open his button and then pulled down his zipper.

"A-awful," he shuddered, body convulsing a bit as I tried to yank his jeans off. "A-aching, every-everywhere." His fingers were screwing up in his thick hair and his teeth were tightly clenched.

"Shit, Matthew, is there anything I can get you to help?" I asked, finally managing to free his skinny, pale legs of his fading torn jeans.

"C-coke, c-crack, fucking c-crystal. D-Dominic, I c-can't. P-please. J-just something - _anything_ \- It'sallIcanthinkabout.Mybodyiscryingoutforit!!" He was beginning to sound manic, which did nothing to help calm me down.

"No, Matt. Come on, you can beat this," I assured him, before I got up and went to go get a kitchen towel which I filled with some ice, as well as a bucket in case he was sick. If this was going to get anywhere as bad as when he'd gone cold turkey a couple months back, I needed to be prepared.

When I got back to find him all scrunched up in a ball, I dumped the bucket next to the bed and tried to open him a bit so that I could put the homemade ice pack to his forehead, which was absolutely boiling hot.

"Here, that's it, just lay back a bit," I encouraged him, helping to then get him under the covers.

He was just now clutching the ice pack, rubbing it all over his face, as he whimpered a bit.

"Whoa, careful, Matt! Your bruises." My warning fell on deaf ears though.

I felt so helpless, much like I had the first time I'd seen him go through this, even though back then it had been worse. Much worse. So much had changed, though, since then between us and it was hard to deny his suffering was affecting me more now. But then perhaps that had to also do with the fact that this time around wasn't really due to his own fault.

But shit, how could it be this bad anyway? He'd only binged for a night? He'd been clean months! But maybe that was the issue...? But then why not yesterday? Yet when I thought about it, he'd looked a bit out of sorts even then...

Deeply worried and concerned about him, his body beginning to burn up in a way that hadn't really happened the last time, I called my GP and managed to arrange for him to stop by as soon as he could. The kid looked terrible and instead of needing the bucket, he'd turned out needing stacks of tissues to blow his nose as he trembled in bed; I was way out of my depth and needed help.

When Dr. Jones, the GP I'd come to know well since living with Tom as he was a family friend of the Kirks, came by an hour or so later, Matt was still in the same state, full of aches and pains and all fevered and sweaty.

I'd then stood by awkwardly in the corner of Matthew's room, while the doctor examined him, feeling a little too much like an anxious mother.

"That's good, Matthew, just try lie still," Dr. Jones said, sticking his stethoscope down the kid's top's neckline, in order to hear his heart. When he was done with that, he removed the thermometer from Matthew's mouth.

I just continued to watch on then, until the doctor stood up and turned to me.

"It seems he's come down with a nasty case of flue," he explained, packing up his equipment.

"Wait, you mean... Does this have to do with the drugs; his relapse?" I asked anxiously, having already explained Matthew's situation a bit to him. Luckily Neil Jones was an understanding and non-judgemental man and had taken it all in his stride; I'd of course also had to explain why the kid was covered in bruises. I'd said he'd just been in a fight again. Jones didn't need to know everything.

"Not that I can tell, seems he's just caught it, I'd be careful if I were you, Dom. There's been quite a bit of the stuff going down lately. May want to get a shot, I could book an appointment in the coming week?"

I felt so much relief at his words. Sick. Matthew was just sick. That would explain a lot, except...

"I-if this h-has nothing to d-do with w-withdraw-drawal, why is m-my c-craving suddenly b-back so st-strongly?" the kid managed to ask for himself, voicing what I'd been wondering about too.

Smiling kindly, the doctor looked up from where he'd just clipped his case shut. "Well, I'd assume it has to do with the fact that one tends to become reliant on drugs for many reasons and it's well-known for addicts to use them as a coping mechanism. Your body knows it's ill and so it craves something it knows helped numb it in the past."

"Y-you m-mean every time I g-get s-sick I r-risk relapsing?"

"Not necessarily, it's all very dependant on the individual. But, Matthew, an addiction is an addiction; it will never fully go away."

With that I then thanked Dr. Jones for his help and was shocked when he said I didn't have to pay. "Family discount," he'd winked, "but you will need to get these from the local drug store," he'd added handing over a prescription for Matthew, as I'd let him out.

I'd then popped into his room to tell Matthew where I was going, before heading out and catching a bus to town.

 

***

 

When Matthew eventually fell into a fitful sleep some time later, having taken his medicine, I retired to the couch to watch some telly. Exhausted with the way my morning had been interrupted, but too concerned to properly sleep myself yet. I needed some good old-fashioned brain-numbing TV to sort me out first.

It was then, having settled on some travel show after flicking through channels, that I was struck with an idea.

A trip to London.

The show was all about the capital city, showing all the tourist traps and the like, complete with everything from the Tower, Madame Tussauds, the London Eye and even ghost tours.

I didn't have much money, but I had a bit saved up and this would be as noble a cause as any. Matthew could really do with a distraction and, let's face it, we could both do with a break from our lives over here. I could barely remember the last time I'd even gone on a trip; that camping one with Tom a year or two back the only one coming to mind.

I'd have to see how the kid was doing, of course, and then check his opinion on it all. But, at the end of the day, I had to do something for him either way. I had to make true on my decision to bring back a little happiness to a life which seemed so devoid of it. It was time something good happened to him for a change, his terrible fortune needed to come to an end.


	14. Chapter 14

As luck would have it, two days later, just as Matthew was getting better, I fell ill myself, before I could even book an appointment with Dr. Jones.

Matthew, feeling awful and blaming himself, insisted on caring for me like I had done for him. So, I lay in bed feeling miserable, as the kid went to go get meds for me too, helped give them to me and quite literally mopped my brow with an ice pack when I burnt up and covered me with blankets and a hot-water bottle when I shivered. I felt gross and weak, yet too sick to even do anything about it.

I'd been waiting for him to get better before I told him about the proposed trip to London, only now for myself to fall ill. The news would have to wait.

"M-Matt," I managed, the kid busy draping yet another blanket over me, my shivers having begun again.

"Yes, Dom?" he asked, eyes darting over me, to see if I was sufficiently covered. "Is that not enough?"

"N-no, no. It's not t-that," I was quick to assure him, just as he reached out, biting his lip anxiously as he felt my forehead. His long, bony fingers felt like icicles. When I raised an eyebrow he blushed furiously.

"J-just wanted to check your temperature. I've, er, lost the thermometer. I'msosorryIdidn'tmeantoI'llfinditIswear!" he tried to explain, speeding up when he clearly thought I still looked too taken aback.

"M-Matt, i-it's fine. I-I just wanted to t-tell you, y-you don't have to l-look after me. D-don't feel ob-obliged to."

"Nah, s'fine, uh, don't worry about it," he tried to reassure me, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, cheeks still a bit tinted. "Also, I checked with Alex to let him know. He's all good with it, what with being second in command; he can handle the store. Says it's not even too busy."

"Y-yeah, but you d-don't have to feel you have to keep me company either. I won't be offended if you go watch telly or something," I assured him, before breaking off to cough madly, unable to not notice the way he seemed to hover over me worriedly, hands inches from me. "Matt, I'm not a kid. I've also been sick before, relax," I managed after the fit, peeling some of the covers away as I was beginning to sweat again. Lovely.

I felt gross and disgusting, yet too tired to get up and go have the shower I craved. I don't know how Matthew could even handle me in this state. He'd had more of the trembles and I seemed to have more of the sweats...

"Dom, it's fine. Seriously. Besides, it's the least I can do for you. You've done nothing but look after me, now it's finally my turn to try give something back. However small it may be," he insisted, handing me the ice pack that was on my bedside table. "You never left my side when I was going through withdrawal, which must've been awful for you too. So how can I leave yours?"

He was fairly adamant, stubbornness a definite trait of his. So, in no condition to argue I just sighed.

 

***

 

At some point I must've fallen asleep, as I woke up and realised the sun must've gone down, the house was dark and no light was shining in through my window. When I turned around I found that Matthew had gotten on the other side of my bed at some stage and fallen asleep himself. 

I'd said he didn't have to worry over me all the time, the kid was still really only getting better now himself, so it was small wonder he was exhausted, especially considering that even before he'd gotten ill he'd had two bad night's of sleep as well. It had been only a matter of time until he passed out.

At least that explained why my curtains were still open and none of the lights had been turned on yet, I thought as I looked over his sleep softened features. He was sprawled in a tangled twist, with his hips down but lying on his right arm, facing me, wild hair all over the place, his dark brown roots showing through the faded blue strands.

Not having been aware of it, I suddenly realised I'd reached out a hand to smooth down some of his messy hair. I quickly made to stop myself, pulling my hand back, only to then start coughing madly, my chest tight and throat suddenly scratchy. His blue eyes instantly snapped open.

"D-Dom?" his sleep-raspy voice asked. "Shit, are you okay?" And suddenly he was up on his feet and running off to pour me a glass of water, which he then hurriedly brought over to me.

"T-thanks," I managed, taking a sip only to splutter the water over myself as the coughing persisted. "Shit--" cough "--s-sorry."

"S'okay," he smiled understandingly, wiping his face with his sleeve, where some of the water had splashed him. "I'm immune, considering I just passed the bug onto you."

"True," I said, before coughing once more into my fist. "Ugh, now I'm all wet."

"Um, I'll just get you another top?" he offered, already walking to my closet.

"Sure, sure. Pick any one," I replied before collapsing back into my pillows. Despite my nap, I still felt exhausted.

"So, uh..." The kid was back at my side, awkwardly holding a plain white tee of mine.

"Ugh," I groaned, trying to lift my weak body up, it felt like I weighed a ton and my head was so heavy I thought I may topple over. Clearly he thought so too, as he was quick to try support me and help get me into a seated position. I was suddenly even more self-conscious about how gross and sweaty I felt.

"So, uh, you should, um, you know, probably, er, take your wet top off," he suggested, his cheeks tinting a bit.

Great, this was just what I needed.

It then, of course, went from bad to worse, as I struggled pathetically to rid myself of the tee pasted to my chest. Matthew stood by awkwardly, biting his lip, before I sighed and asked him to give me a hand. Talk about pathetic. So, blushing away and fumbling a bit, he managed to help me out of the tee, before helping me into the other one.

"Thanks," I managed softly, sinking back into the covers. I undoubtedly felt much better for having changed out of my wet and sweaty old tee, but could still really have done with a shower. Though, after the whole little t-shirt exchange, it was pretty clear I didn't have the strength to properly stand, let alone clean myself and the last thing I wanted was to ask the kid to help me with that too...

My eyes feeling heavy, my body even more exhausted after the simple action of getting up and out of my tee, I soon fell asleep once more.

 

*** 

 

Waking up with a sleepy stretch, I felt sunlight spilling through to me from the window. I'd clearly slept right through until the next day and thank God for it, because I felt heaps better than I had yesterday.

Yawning, I sat up a bit in bed. My body still felt tired and fairly week, but otherwise I felt well on my way to being healthy again. That was the thing about flu, you spend two or so days feeling like absolute crap - dependant of course on what sort - and then suddenly it's all over. While I wasn't quite recovered completely yet, I knew I'd be fine by tonight.

"Hey, how you feel?"

I looked up to see that Matthew was now standing in my doorway, one arm loosely holding onto the other across his skinny body as he leaned against the door frame, his face full of concern.

"Much better," I croaked, my throat still feeling hoarse, "thanks."

"That's good," he smiled, straightening up and walked a few paces forward.

My eyes instantly took in what he was wearing properly, I was sure I'd never seen him wear that long sleeve before. And I knew all his clothing, after all he did only own a sparse collection of them; the sole items he'd obviously managed to pack with him when he'd been kicked out. I kept meaning to take him shopping for some more clothes, I certainly had enough by now and he could really do with some more; what little he had was mostly stretched out, ill-fitting and had holes. The top he was wearing now, definitely no exception.

It was a black long sleeve, the neckline of which he'd obviously taken a pair of scissors to as the edges were ragged, the neckline wide and showing off his sharp collar bones and the start of his skinny, hairless chest. The tattooed lettering on his right collarbone legible and highlighting the sharp angle of the bone.

Nope, I'd definitely never seen him in this before.

Noticing my stare, his cheeks flushed and he self-consciously fingered the neckline of the top.

"Um, I've run out of clothes, what with everything going on I haven't had a chance to wash, so this is the only clean thing I had. Sorry..."

"Um," I coughed awkwardly, "there's nothing to be sorry about. But you've already run out of clothes in less than a week? We seriously need to get you some more."

"Uh, it's fine, don't worry. I just shouldn't fall behind on washing," he shrugged, still standing there awkwardly in the space between my side of the bed and the door.

"Nonsense, we'll get you some soon. Tomorrow in fact, I should be better by then."

"You really don't have to, but thanks anyway," he said, a half smile curling his lips.

"No problem. Just think of it as a thank you for looking after me, while I've been sick," and then before he could argue, his mouth even having begun to form his opening words, I stopped him. "Don't argue, just go with the flow," I said, getting up, the kid quick to try assist me. "S'fine, Matt. I can managed, plus I don't think we're close enough for you to accompany me to the lav. I'm bursting; all those glasses of water you've been giving me the past day or so."

Blushing brightly he just nodded and left me to it, scuttling out of my room.

 

***

 

"Why not give these a shot? All your clothes are so dark, your wardrobe could do with a bit of colour," I suggested holding up a pair of bright red skinny jeans.

"Uh, no," Matthew shook his head, eyes wide as I then went up to hold them against him. As I held them against his tiny waist, it was obvious he'd need an even smaller size. Damn, but he was skinny.

"Aww, but I think they'd look great! At least try them on?"

"Fine," he gave in, but turned around to point behind himself at a pair of bright pink skinnies. "But then you've gotta try those on."

"Hmm, fine. Deal," I said, putting the red trousers back down so he could find his proper size, before going over to find my own size in hot pink.

We then both headed over to the changing rooms, taking stalls next to one another as we then tried on the bright trousers.

When I pulled them up, two things became very apparent: a) they were extremely tight, restrictively so in fact, and b) I absolutely loved them.

There was no doubt about it, I thought, turning around in them as I checked my reflection out, I looked good in them; abrasive colour and all.

"Ugh, shit," hearing the muttered curses and stumbling from next door, I was suddenly reminded of the kid's own red ones.

"Hey, Matt, how's it going? How do they look? I wanna see," I called over to him, pulling my curtain aside and looking over at his own closed one.

"Hang on a second, just gotta get these damn things on," I could hear him call back through clenched teeth, the sound of him hopping a bit, easy to pick up. "Okay, fine. Done, but don't laugh."

"I would never," I grinned, as he then reluctantly drew back the curtain.

As I then took in the sight of him, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot, the skin tight trousers definitely tighter than any of his other - nearly exclusively skinny jeans - trousers, I couldn't help but think of what they'd look like paired with that black top he'd worn yesterday...

I don't know, but ever since that damn wank I'd had in the shower the other day, I swear my view of the kid's been messed up. I couldn't seem but help thinking of him in a more than inappropriate manner. I was as good as his guardian, I wasn't meant to think of him any way even remotely sexual. Yet, in those incredibly tight trousers, I couldn't stop my eyes from going straight to the highlighted bulge in the front of them.

"Y-yeah, they're pretty tight," he blushed under my gaze, the pink darkening as I then caught him staring back at my own trousers similarly. "Not to mention bright; yours especially."

"Definitely," I nodded, scratching my neck a bit awkwardly, "but I strangely really like them. I may just very well buy 'em."

"Uh, you should," he nodded back, his long, bony fingers knotting in the hem of his baggy grey jumper - the one with the hole by the stretched neckline - effectively cutting off my view of his crotch, with his self-conscious twitching.

"Well, uh, you look good with some colour," I pointed out, which made him smile slightly. "You should get those too."

"Uh, thanks... Maybe I will."

Of course when he'd turned around to go back inside his stall to change, my eyes had immediately gravitated to his pert little arse.

_Fuck's sake, Dominic! You're unbelievable!_

Blushing furiously to myself I hurriedly got back into my own stall, drawing back my curtain and pushing my hand down hard on my stiffening dick. How it was even possible in the suffocating trousers, I hadn't a clue.

I tried to run through all the old schoolboy tricks then, like trying to think of the most off putting things, as I peeled off the pink jeans and got dressed again, hoping my dick would calm the fuck down.

_Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with me?!_

"Uh, Dom, you still in there?" I then heard the kid ask through the curtain.

"Um, uh, yeah. Why don't you go look for some more things while I get changed?" I suggested, pulling up my zipper and trying to hold back the hiss from having restricted my semi-hard-on again.

"Uh, okay."

When I then heard his footfalls fade off, I sighed in relief, leaning back into the mirror behind me. I was so fucked, this... _issue_ seemed to only be getting worse.

When I'd finally managed to calm down enough, I tried to look as innocent as I could, as I left the fitting rooms and nodded at the sales girl that I planned on keeping the pink jeans.

It wasn't too hard to find Matthew again, despite this being one of the larger retail stores in town. He was over at the shirts section.

"What you got there?" I asked, making him start a bit in surprise.

"Oh, uh, just found three really cool shirts," he smiled shyly, holding them up. One was cherry red, another butternut yellow and the last made up of white, blue and salmon stripes. "See and they're colourful."

"Very nice," I grinned back, before looking around to help find some more things. "Oh, what about this?" I soon asked, finding a grey top with a red neckline and matching red long sleeves.

"Oh, yeah! That's great," he agreed, so I draped it over my arm, figuring small was probably his correct size. "Oh my God!"

"What?" I asked, startled by his sudden exclamation, following where he was looking.

"Our trousers, we got them in the women's section!"

"No wonder they're extra tight. Wouldn't be the first time I got a pair of jeans from there though," I laughed, my smile only growing wider as I then took in his shocked expression. "Don't tell me you're put off now, it's not like we're buying skirts. Unless, of course, you want to? I won't judge."

This comment earned me a light shove, the kid shaking his head, but unable not to join in laughing.

"Well, I'd, er, imagine you need some more, um, pants too?"

Wide-eyed and blushing again, he coughed awkwardly, looking like he wanted to be swallowed into the ground below, as he nodded. "Er, yeah..."

"Well best you go get some," I laughed, just as awkward, before I watched him scuttle off in search of the men's underwear section.

And so our morning continued, though, what with money being tight, the rest was spent in a few second-hand stores, where we managed to piece together a whole bunch more clothing.

When we eventually got home, we collapsed onto the couch, exhausted.

"What you want for tea?"

"Um, I'm not really hungry..."

I turned to look over at him. "Matt, you're eating. Neither of us have eaten much these past couple days, we deserve a feast! How's some Chinese take-out sound? I can't be arsed to cook."

"Sure, whatever," he shrugged, as I dragged myself back to my feet to go phone and make the order.

"Um, Dom..."

"Yeah?" I asked, turning back to look at him.

"Thanks for today; for the clothes and everything..."

"Sure, no problem, but if you really wanna show your appreciation, you'll eat all your supper," I winked, before going over to dial a number I worryingly knew off by heart, as he grumbled about not being hungry.

 

***

 

"So, I was thinking we should maybe go on a touristy trip to London, I have some cash saved up and it'd give us a bit of a break from everything."

We were busy eating our take-out - well, _I_ was, he was fiddling about with his chopsticks and noodles - when it'd had all just come out.

His blue eyes blew wide, just as he'd been about to finally take a bite. "W-what? London?"

"Yeah, I know we've both already been there and all, but have you ever done the whole touristy thing? I mean, I can't really afford anything fancy, and I know a trip to the capital for a few days isn't as special as one in a different country, but I figure it could be a laugh?" Suddenly I was feeling all self-conscious about the trip, what if he thought it was a dumb idea?

"Y-you want to go on a trip with m-me?" he asked, eyes still wide with surprise as he abandoned his chopsticks.

"Er, yeah. No one deserves a break and some new scenery more than you do," I nodded, trying to crack a smile.

"C-can you, uh, afford it though, Dom?" Of course he was suddenly always so practical.

"Yeah, I said I could, that I've some cash saved... Of course we don't have to, you know, if you don't want to. It was just an idea..." I was rapidly loosing my confidence in the idea, Matthew's apparent lack of enthusiasm not helping.

"Of c-course I want to! I'd l-love to, I just wanna make sure you're sure about it," he replied, smiling shyly.

"Of course I'm sure, Matt. I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," I grinned, his smile bringing back some of my confidence in the proposed trip.

"Wh-what about the store?"

"I'll speak to Alex. I'm sure he won't put up a fuss, it means he can earn more cash," I laughed. Alex was certainly a very driven individual and extremely reliable too. "Also, well, the owner spoke to me and... well, he's thinking of retiring soon and leaving the place to me anyway; Alex knows this and would love it if I promoted him to my position as manager."

"He is? You mean you may be getting the store as your own?!" the kid asked in surprise, a large smile spreading across his face. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?!"

"Hmm, I don't really know," I shrugged, feeling a bit bashful.

"So, wait, let me get this straight: you're gonna own the store and we're gonna go on a trip to London?"

"Yup, sounds about right. That is, of course, if you will come to London with me on a daft boys' trip?"

"Um, duh, of course! I already said I wanted to, didn't I?"

I couldn't help but mirror his suddenly wide, excited grinning, his uncharacteristicly large smile revealing the rare sight of that snaggled front tooth of his. A part of me felt that it was a sign of things changing and finally getting better. Hope that that wonky smile of his would become a more common occurrence.


	15. Chapter 15

"...yeah, I said I thought it was a great idea, didn't I? You just better stay safe in the big bad city, Dommeh." 

I was talking to Tom over the phone, Matthew and I having already started our trip and on our way over to London via train.

"Yeah, yeah. Tom, I'll be thirty in a few months' time, I can look after myself."

"Yeah, well. You've also gotta think about Matt too, now. Keep him safe and outta trouble and all," Tom reminded me, prompting my eyes to drift to the kid in question who was sitting on the seat facing me, head leaning against the glass window. He was fast asleep, having nodded off within the first few minutes of having settled down and our train pulling off from the station.

We'd had a busy past two weeks, it was small wonder he was knackered.

We'd popped in to see the Wolstenholmes, Chris and Kelly insisting on seeing us both before we left; the kid having told them about the trip in his excitement. Thankfully they'd been supportive and thought it was a great idea. Of course, though, they had wanted explanations for the fading bruises on him, the large one on his face almost gone, but Kelly'd also spotted the darker fading bruises around Matthew's wrist and, not wanting to lie, he'd told them all about the previous weekend's disaster. Thankfully the older Wolstenholme kids had been at school at the time, because aside from Matthew's story, a tirade of only the worst kind of words had proceeded to leave Chris' mouth. Matthew had of course tried to reassure them he was alright, as Kelly's mothering instinct had kicked in and she'd pulled him into her arms for a good half-hour as Chris tried to cool down.

I'd been nervous they'd be furious with me for having encouraged him to go out in the first place, not to mention not having answered his calls, but instead they'd thanked me endlessly for being there and helping him out. Despite this, their praise only made me feel more guilty; I couldn't help but still blame myself for the whole ordeal. Matthew had then gone on to tell them about how I'd supported and helped him through it, before then proceeding to look after him when he'd been ill; of course, I'd then told them about him doing the same for me when I'd gotten sick. It didn't compare though.

The way the kid spoke about me, it was like I was some kind of saint, Chris and Kelly smiling and thanking me; their gratitude towards me growing with every word he said about me. It only succeeding in making me feel even worse, especially considering the fact that my thoughts towards him were increasingly more impure than they should ever be... Yet Chris and Kelly just seemed to lap it all up; Matthew's obvious - blatant in fact - praise of me shining through in his inherent honesty. It practically bordered on hero-worship!

Way to kick a man when he was down; it made me feel truly despicable.

After our visit with the Wolstenholmes, we'd gone over for dinner at Tom and Angie's later in the week, to get a good look at their new home. When we'd told them about the upcoming trip, they been just as supportive and thought it was exactly what 'we' needed. They'd said _we_ , the two of them also clearly beginning to join Matthew's cult of misplaced worship. After all, if it hadn't been for Tom, I'd probably have kicked the kid out months ago, never mind do all those other things they insisted on praising me for; like caring for him when he'd gone through withdrawal, finding him a job, fetching him at that park in the middle of the night or any of the others. So I'd been glad to leave them too, eager to just get occupied and back to business withsorting out the store and Alex's temporary duties.

So after the visits and prepping and organising our trip, as well as giving the house a good clean and packing our bags, we were beat.

"Relax, Tom, I'll keep a close eye on him. It'll be fine. Heck, we may even bring you back a present," I reassured my old friend, my eyes leaving Matthew's sleeping face to instead watch the countryside flashing past outside the window.

"Now, now, Howard. Don't you dare make hollow threats; we both know I'm now gonna demand a present of some kind."

"Of course, Tom. I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

"Okay, well, I gotta go help Angie put up a shelf. You'll keep safe and stay in touch, yeah?" Tom asked then after a little more meaningless chitchat.

"'Course I will. Now don't you hurt yourself, Kirk. I know exactly what your DIY skills are like; best let Angie do most of the work," I joked, holding back a laugh at his own sarcastic one in response to me.

"Yeah, yeah. You're a real comedian, Howard."

"Don't you know it. Well, g'luck and cheers, mate."

"Yeah, later."

Putting down my phone, I looked back at Matthew, his eyes beginning to blink slowly as he woke.

"Hey there, you with the living once more?" I grinned at him as he, mumbling, rubbed his eyes before yawning loudly.

"Hmm, yeah. Wow," another yawn, "totally passed out there," he replied, running his fingers through his newly redyed shock of electric-blue hair.

His hair having faded too much, the kid had decided he still wasn't ready to part with the blue just yet and had bought new dye. Instead of the lighter or primary blues he's dyed it in the past, he'd gone for the brightest shade he could find, having gone to several different stores until he'd found the right one. I'd of course arrived home from work then, it having been his off day, to find him busy rinsing his hair, the bathtub a mess of shocking blue. And when I'd asked all he'd said was 'We're off to London; go big or go home, right?'

"Yeah, but it's all good. We're almost at King's Cross anyway; it's the next stop," I replied, smiling at the way the left side of his face was all pink from having leaned against the window for so long.

"Shit, sorry, great travelling companion I am," he apologised, looking sheepish.

"Don't worry about it, I watched the passing landscapes and spoke to Tom for a while. He called wanting to check up on things," I shrugged, shifting my left leg on top of the right.

"Yeah, but still... I meant to stay alert! I shouldn't be too surprised really, though, trains have always made me sleepy," he explained, his legs moving - in what I highly suspected was a subconscious movement - to mirror mine.

"Yeah? That's pretty dopey," I grinned playfully and he just shruggingly blushed.

 

***

 

First thing we did when we arrived at King's Cross was catch a taxi to the hotel we'd be staying at. It wasn't anything too fancy, just a Premier Inn. When we'd gone to check in, however, it was to find that our room only had a single double bed in it.

"Um, don't you have any rooms with two singles?" I'd asked the lady working at the front desk as she'd given me the room key, after telling me that it was a double bed and not the two singles I'd booked.

"I'm afraid they're all booked, sir. We have a large wedding party staying with us at the moment too. This is the only room we have left, unless you'd like to book one of the larger rooms?"

Just the words 'larger rooms' seemed to make my stomach drop; that'd mean more cash, so consequently less spending money for our tourist trips.

"How long until one of the other rooms is freed up?"

"I'm afraid they've booked for two nights? They're all over from Ireland; the groom's family."

Matthew had just stood by quietly watching the exchange, not wanting to get involved, but when I'd looked at him questioningly, he'd just shrugged.

"W-well, i-if it's all they have... I-I don't want you having to spend m-more than we have?"

So, with a sigh, I'd resigned myself to letting the hotel get its way, despite the fact I know for sure I'd booked a room with two singles. Clearly they'd made a deal with the larger party.

"I-it really isn't s-so bad, I mean, we've, uh, shared b-before..." Matthew quietly said when we'd entered our room.

"Yeah, I guess. It's more just the fact of coming off second best because we were the 'little guy' in the equation... Also we're on holiday, we shouldn't have to share," I replied, closing the door and then dumping my bag down.

"S-so, uh, which side do you want? Th-the left?" he asked shyly, putting down his black kit bag. It had been odd seeing it at first again, the memories it was associated with definitely unpleasant for him I'm sure. It was hardly big, yet he'd been made to pack up his life in it and leave everything else behind.

"Um, er, sure," I nodded, the left the side I usually favoured on my bed at home.

So, as I then began to unpack my bags, hating for anything to get any creases, Matthew went off to give the bathroom an inspection.

"And?" I asked, when he walked back into the room, unable to suppress a grin.

"Y-yeah, s'all good. They have the little shampoos and everything," he assured me, his eyes roving around the place.

"Er, Matt, have you stayed at a hotel before?" I asked, his obvious interest in everything around him a little odd.

"Uh, yeah, twice, when I was a little kid though. Once in Bath and once here in London, both times 'cause of Ben's rugby, before my parents stopped taking me along... In fact the only other time I've been to London was when Ben moved into his flat here..." he shrugged dismissively, clearly trying to play it all down, as he went to flop down on the right side of the bed.

Not quite knowing what to say in response to that, I changed the topic a bit. "Ah, so... well, we can do anything you want; I was figuring maybe going to the Natural History Museum and then the British Museum, check 'em both off in a day?"

"Yeah, that sounds great!" he grinned, his lip even curling over his skew tooth and all, prompting me to giggle. "W-what?" he asked suddenly self-conscious, face falling a bit.

"Aww, don't stop smiling. I'm just laughing 'cause it was great to see you smiling; you've got an adorable smile, with dimples and all," I shrugged, laughing a bit awkwardly as I hadn't even realised I'd said it when I did, let alone thought it.

"Oh, um, thanks," he blushed madly, a shy smile curling his lips this time.

"Er, yeah, don't mention it," I shrugged, quickly trying to play down the importance of what I'd said. Shit... did I really think his smile was adorable? I guess I must do...

 

***

 

"Oh my God! This really is by far one of the coolest things I've ever seen!" Matt grinned broadly, as we walked past the giant Diplodocus dinosaur model again, on our way back out of the Natural History Museum.

"You said the same thing about the animatronic T-rex and then the mummies and their sarcophaguses at the British Museum, to name but two other instances," I laughed, his bright blue eyes still all wide and sparkling away with excitement, despite the long day.

"Yeah, well, I did say _'one_ of the coolest things'," he grinned, snaggled front tooth on display. I couldn't help but notice that he'd been doing a lot more of his full-blown smiles, ever since my odd compliment earlier.

"A nutter, that's what you are," I shook my head, smiling back as we made our exit. "So, supper, what you wanna do?" I then asked as we stepped out into the brisk chill outside.

We'd had some sandwiches at one of the little cafeterias at the British Museum for lunch, before heading over to continue our museum explorations. At the thought of food, however, I could feel my stomach grumble.

"Uh, anything, I don't mind," he shrugged, zipping his hoodie up.

"Hmm, how about... we go get a pizza?"

"Um, yeah, sure. Why not?" he smiled.

"Pizza it is!" I declared, zipping up my leather jacket too.

We got back to the hotel an hour or two later, my belly full as I'd practically eaten our entire large Hawaiian, Matt, being himself, had only had a slice before I'd insisted he at least have another. Reluctantly he had, taking as long to eat that final piece, as it had taken me to eat the rest of the entire pizza. I didn't want to make a big deal of forcing him to eat while we were on holiday, but only one slice after all the walking we'd been doing? I don't know what's wrong with him, but as soon as we'd gotten the pizza, I'd guzzled at least four pieces before I'd even taken a breath.

"So, uh, you wanna shower first, or should I?" I asked when we arrived back at our room, shrugging off my jacket.

"Um, you can, er, go first if you want?" he replied with a shrug, sitting down on his side of the bed, after having grabbed the TV remote from the bedside table. "I'll just watch some TV, while I wait."

So I'd gone to have my shower, before changing and just getting ready for bed. Then, when I'd gone to dry my hair in the room, I'd caught him looking at me; he'd just blushed in response and grabbed his things, before going for his own shower.

The TV channels were all, as to be expected, shite, so I'd just settled on watching an old Jeremy Kyle episode, with nothing better to do, as I'd gotten comfy in bed on my side.

When he was done, Matthew padded into the room, his hair dark and wet, pasted flat against his scalp, as he apologised that he'd need to now also use the hairdryer, effectively making any point of watching any TV pointless, as I wouldn't be able to hear a thing. So I'd basically found myself watching him dry his hair, with nothing better to do; our roles now reversed. He certainly had a lot of hair, the thick, shocking blue mop having grown pretty long since Angie had cut it last for him; having a hairdresser as your best mate's future missus certainly had its advantages.

So, basically, there I sat, his back to me at he half bent over to blow-dry his sodden blue hair, giving me the view of his back hunched and his bum slightly jutted out in his stripy navy and grey boxers, other than them, he was also wearing that grey long sleeve he seemed to always sleep in. So, naturally, I'd found my eyes travelling up his skinny little legs to focus on the slight curve of his bum. Natural instinct can be a real fucker when it wants to be, I swear.

Before I could look away, when I'd realised where my traitorous eyes were set on looking, the kid would of course have to pic that moment to look over at me, having turned off the dryer. Sadly it was pretty obvious that I'd been looking at him, even though I did my best to pretend like I hadn't been; I could only hope he didn't realise I'd been looking at his arse. He just coughed awkwardly, though, those sharp cheeks of his flushed, as he'd then put down the hairdryer and padded over to his own side of the bed.

"What were you, uh, watching?" he asked, pulling back the covers on his side, as he then proceeded to self-consciously climb into bed.

"Um, just Jeremy Kyle," I shrugged, looking squarely back at the TV again, now able to hear the sound. Some woman was shouting at her husband for having gotten her sister pregnant.

"Oh, cool," he replied and in my peripheral, I could just see the way he uncomfortably smoothed down the sheets over his lap, as he sat up in bed like me.

"Ah-huh," I nodded, very aware of how close we were to each other, the double bed definitely smaller than my one back home.

We sat then in silence for a while longer, just watching as the show eventually drew to a conclusion.

"Um, thanks, Dom, for today. I had lots of fun," he said then suddenly, making me turn my head to look back at him.

"Yeah, sure, not a problem. I'm really pleased you enjoyed yourself," I smiled back, genuinely happy to hear him say so.

Despite the slightly awkward atmosphere, we continued to chat, discussing the next episode of The Jeremy Kyle Show, before we watched most of The Mummy, which came on afterwards, before agreeing to call it a night. It wasn't that late, but we'd be getting up early, as the whole 'bed and breakfast' portion of our stay started at 6am and ended at 8am; much earlier than Matthew was certainly used to.

"Night, Dom," he said softly, wiggling about as he attempted to get comfy and I turned off the lights.

"Yeah, night," I replied, climbing back into bed, only to be reminded of how small it really was, the kid's icy toes bumping into my legs. "Jesus, Matt! Put some socks on or keep those ice cubes you call toes away!"

"Sorry, sorry," he mumbled apologetically, shifting around so that that sacred gap returned between us and so was opened up once more.

 

***

 

Naturally, I awoke to my phone's alarm going off with an armful of the kid anyway, Matthew having wrapped his scrawny body around my right arm, my left then having compensated had moved to hold him back in my sleep.

Of course, by this point I wasn't surprised by the fact that I had morning wood, I was, however, grateful that our lower halves weren't touching, so there'd be no repeats of the last morning I'd woken up in bed with him.

"Hmmfalready?" came a sleepy mumble from Matthew, who I was pleased quickly removed himself to go as far on the other side of the bed as possible. I didn't want to focus on the reason he'd no doubt done so so speedily, his flushed cheeks and sheepish expression all the evidence I needed.

"Yup, breakfast time," I nodded, before discreetly getting out of bed, back towards him at all times, and headed towards the bathroom. He just better not jerk off in the bed we have to share...

 

***

 

After a slice of toast for the kid and a full english for myself - I'm still trying to keep from going all 'parental: eat more food' mode - and we headed off to do some more sight seeing, choosing to go for the cheap option of a long walk along the Thames.

The weather, as luck would typically have it, was particularly shite, drizzle ever constant, a biting wind blowing about and the sky a mess of threatening storm clouds, not a sliver of sunlight to be seen. I know we're not famous for having the best weather around, but this was ridiculous, even for autumn.

"It-it's fu-fuckin' free-freezing!" Matthew chattered beside me, as we walked, pulling the cords of his hoodie, so that the hood closed in around his face, some of his mad long, blue fringe poking out and blowing in the wind.

"Very fucking freezing," I could only agree, grateful that the kid had leant me his beanie, having pointed out he still had his hood. "The tip of your nose is going all pink," I couldn't help pointing out then, making him subconsciously rub said body part.

"Shit, fee-feels li-like an ice cube!" he complained. "L-let's just go ba-back to the ho-hotel and ca-call it a d-day, there's no point wal-walking in th-this any longer."

"But what about The Eye?" I reminded him, nudging my head in the direction of the famous giant ferris wheel. During the early stages of our walk, just as the weather was taking a turn for the worse, we'd spotted The London Eye, only for me to (unsurprisingly) learn that the kid had ever been on the famous London attraction and icon.

Of course then our previously aimless walk had turned into one with the soul purpose of leading us to the giant, white wheel; we couldn't _not_ have a go now if we were doing the whole 'tourist trip' thing. It just meant we couldn't afford to then go anywhere else for the rest of the day.

"Com'on, Matt, we're almost there and there's virtually no queue at all - trust me, this will be our best shot for having a go," I pointed out, nudging him with my elbow as my hands were stuffed in the pockets of my jacket.

"Y-yeah, I g-guess you have a point..." he conceded, before looking back at me a grinning. "Race you the last bit?"

"Huh, what?" I asked, completely caught off guard, but instead of answering me he just took off, skinny little legs powering him away. "Oi! Matt, wait up!!" Of course I couldn't let him win then, my naturally competitive side roaring to life.

"Nah-uh!" he laughed, but stumbled a bit in a rain puddle, allowing me to catch up.

"Clumsy!" I laughed right back, reaching our destination just before him.

"Y-you just got l-lucky," he panted, bent over with his hands on his thighs as he tried to get back his breath.

"P-perhaps, but I st-still won," I grinned back, panting myself as I clutched at the stitch which had developed in my side.

"Ugh, now my trousers and shoes are even more wet," he grumbled, kicking his left foot out a bit, the puddle having soaked him even more than the dark, damp raindrop marks covering both our clothing.

"Well, soon we'll be able to go up in one of the pods and it'll be worth all of it," I assured him, leading the way to go pay and queue up.

 

***

 

"Wow, the view's amazing! I can see St Paul's, check!" Matthew grinned, nose and hands pressed against the glass as he peered out at the sprawling London landscape below us, our pod nearing the top.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," I agreed, chuckling a bit as he managed to part from the window, his hands and breath having left marks.

"Whoops..."

"I'm sure you're not the first," I shrugged, looking behind us to see the only other people riding in our pod; a couple who were more focus on each other than the view, both on the other side.

"Guess we were lucky having the crap weather after all, I hear these things are usually packed," the kid said, clearly having seen where I'd been looking, making me turn to face him.

"Uh, yeah. When I came, it was in summer and it felt like a glass oven," I agreed, my eyes unable to not pick up the way Matthew was nervously biting his lip and clutching and unclutching the railing in front of us.

"Yeah... Um, thanks, you know, for paying for us to go up here," he said softly, glancing down at his scuffed old shoes, before looking back up into my eyes and letting go of the railing bar. "This trip must be costing you a ton, yet you still paid a small fortune for this, even though you've already done it before."

"Er, it's no problem. You hadn't, I really don't mind," I shrugged awkwardly. The cost had definitely taken a large hit at our spending money, but I'd known he'd love the experience. "Just as long as you like it?"

"Of course I do! This is incredible; we can see all of London practically," he insisted, but he had his eyes fixed on me instead of the view he was praising.

"Yeah? Well, um, I'm, uh, glad you like it," I replied, rubbing the back of my neck, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward, the odd look in the kid's bright blue eyes unnerving me a bit, as well as the fact I was definitely sure he'd moved closer when I'd looked out at the view.

"You're so kind to me, despite all the trouble and pain I've brought you," he continued, voice soft, as he looked down at his shoes again. He was trying, I suspected, to hide that he was blushing, but I could still see and it made my stomach turn in a strange way.

"Er, like I've, um, said, you don't have to worry about it. Seriously."

"Thank you, Dom," he practically whispered, before thankfully turning away from me to look out as we reached the top of the wheel.

It was better not having those unreadable, vivid blue eyes staring back at me, but that odd feeling was still tugging at my gut and I couldn't help but look out of the corner of my own eye to see what he was doing.

He looked tense, perhaps conflicted? He was frowning slightly as he bit down on his lip again. Okay, not a particularly good sign. What could be bothering him? I was busy contemplating just that, when he caught me staring at him instead of the view.

It was stupid, but I felt my cheeks instantly heat in embarrassment for having been caught. He must think I'm a complete creep.

"Uh, well, um..." I began, trying to find the words to explain myself; it wasn't after all the first time he'd caught me staring at him. Yup, he had to think I was an absolute creep. As that circulated through my head, however, I couldn't help but wonder when I'd begun to be so concerned about what he thought of me; after all, what _did_ his opinion matter? Either way, though, I didn't want him to think I was a creep, memories of me wanking in the shower while thinking about him far too fresh to be comfortable. "Matt, I was just, er, I wa--"

Before I could continue my awkward ramble, however, he stepped right up to me, his frown having settled into giving him a determined sort of expression; effectively making me cut myself off. The look on his face was clear and, even if in my mind I was trying to deny what he was so obviously about to do, my heart had begun to knowingly speed up, while I, myself, found that I was completely frozen in place.

_Oh God, he isn't really going to--_

But then he really did.

It was quick and slightly awkward, only a mere brush of his lips against mine, before he immediately pulled back to look up at me with wide, nervous eyes, his expression expectant, yet mixed with some clear fear and doubt.

"D-did you just..."

To say that my mind was a complete fuck up of conflicted emotions and persistent doubts, would have been the understatement of the decade. It was small wonder I didn't exactly know how to respond.

"Y-yes, I... I, uh, d-did," he nodded, cheeks brightly flushed and skew teeth snagged onto his bottom lip.

"Matt, I... um, you see, it's... Well..." I could still feel my lips tingle from the sensation of his shy kiss.

Fuck, what was I supposed to do?

For the past few weeks my mind's been plaguing me, filling my head with all sorts of inappropriate things regarding him, which I'd never had before. They made me feel like a dirty old man and incredibly guilty. I was basically his guardian now; to take our relationship past that boundary of friendship - a friendship I'd originally never even wanted to have with him - would be wrong, as I'd be taking advantage of him and misusing his trust. He's still so young and so incredibly vulnerable, surely I wasn't the best option for him?

He has been adamant though, even after all this time and the horrible way I treated him in the beginning, the way I'd also then betrayed and used him in the most awful way; he was clearly still set on having me anyway.

Of course then there's also me to worry about; was this really what _I_ even wanted?

Clearly losing what nerve he'd managed to pull together then, though, the kid began to switch to his default: endless apologies.

"I-I'm so-sorry, Dominic. I-I di-didn't... I..."

The way his shoulders had then slumped and his face had fallen, had made my heart ache for him and helped to make my mind up on how to respond.

What I wanted - and the initial purpose of this trip in the first place - was to make him happy. I obviously then cared for him and so therefore had feelings for the kid too, despite everything. _I_ wanted to make him happy; me. I got satisfaction from bringing him joy, so surely reciprocating would be the obvious answer to my dilemma. He brought me happiness too, he gave me company and was someone in my life when the only other important people in it couldn't always give me their time.

As for all the weird thoughts I'd been having of him lately, the way I'd begun to see him in a new light, weren't those all signs from my subconscious? Didn't this deserved to be explored instead of immediately shot down?

In the end, it was probably the hurt disappointment clouding those big, blue eyes of his that did it; that helped me decide.

Pushing all my doubts and concerns aside, I reached out and cupped his face, lifting his head up so that he had to face me. His blue eyes blew wide in surprise, as I just leaned forward then to press my lips to his.

A small gasp left his lips, as I pushed my own more firmly against them, instinctively seeking to deepen the kiss. As my mouth opened his own up to me, using his gasp to my advantage, I slid my tongue into the moist warmth of his mouth. At my action, I felt him grip my arms for support, clutching at my jumper with his long fingers.

The kiss was odd though, the kid's movements awkward and clumsy, as he tried to respond; he even succeeding in knocking our teeth together a few times.

"S-sorry," he mumbled apologetically, pulling out, his cheeks flushed with an embarrassed blush.

"Er, it's okay," I smiled, leaning in to kiss him again, thinking he was probably just nervous. As I tried to kiss him again though, it became increasingly obvious that he'd actually never kissed anyone before...

What he lacked for in ability, he made up with in enthusiasm though, his grip on me tightening as he reached up on the balls of his feet, prompting me to hold him around the waist for support.

The fact that it was becoming increasingly obvious that I was the only one who'd ever kissed him before, despite past events in his life, made my stomach drop.

"I'm sorry, Matt," I apologised against his lips, but he just frowned and kissed me again more determinedly.


	16. Chapter 16

The snogging didn't stop until our ride came to an end and we got off The Eye, having pretty much missed the entirety of the rest of it. Though I couldn't find myself bothered to even worry about the fact, with Matthew's slight, bony body pressed against me and his novice kissing, with its innocence and explorative nature, commanding all of my attention.

When we'd eventually pulled apart properly - the first time to do so for more than just catching our breath - Matthew had immediately hidden his flushed face and bright blue eyes from me, by burying himself against my chest. His arms had snaked around me then, pulling me as tight as possible against him in a last squeeze before we had to get off.

He'd then continued to clutch onto my hand, seemingly desperate to keep some level of the intimacy, most likely in fear that I'd scare off and think everything through properly. Surprisingly that was the last thing I felt capable of doing in that moment, so I'd simply laced our fingers and led him to the closest bus stop which would give us the first of two buses back to the hotel.

The strange, practically paranoid, way I'd begun to feel around him lately felt like it had completely dissipated and I no longer felt so high-strung and on edge around him. Sure, I wasn't too sure about whether or not this was all such a good idea, but I couldn't find the strength within me to care. Matthew's mood also had me pushing away any of my misgivings. The kid actually looked happier than I'd ever seen him and whenever I turned to catch his stares, he'd blushingly turn away, his hand squeezing mine as that wonky smile of his blazed away bashfully.

The weather became truly abysmal though, even worse than earlier, and by the time we reached the hotel, we both looked a lot like drowned rats, having soppingly sat in the buses on the way over, keeping to ourselves, our hands joined the entire time. We'd made attempts at polite, albeit incredibly awkward conversation, which mainly centred around the views and famous London landmarks, neither of us broaching the topic of how our relationship had suddenly taken a massive turn.

Both of us shivering and Matthew's teeth chattering away, we'd both made quickly for our room, before stripping of our soaked through jumpers, trainers and socks. Then, of course, we were left with the awkward question of what else to do.

"Why don't you go take a hot shower and get into some dry clothes?" I suggested, as the cold rain had obviously affected him far more than it had me. His nose was bright red, his lips as blue as his hair practically and his scrawny body was shaking like a leaf. 

"Oh-ka-kay," he nodded, gathering a change of clothes from his kitbag, which he had yet to unpack and I now strongly doubted he ever would, before worriedly looking back at me briefly, biting on his purple-blue lip.

"Go on, I'll just dry myself down and change. You, on the other hand, look like a human ice cube, so best you go warm up now," I grinned back, trying to look as reassuring as I could. Thankfully he'd then just nodded before disappearing into the bathroom and shutting the door.

I'd then striped of the rest of my wet things and towelled myself off, before changing into a new pair of boxers, an old pair of track pants, a tee and one of my hoodies, the sound of the shower running in the background the entire time. The dry clothing made me instantly feel warmer and more comfortable, as I gathered the wet things into a pile to be hung out in the bathroom when Matthew was finished.

My head still a confusing, yet oddly blissful buzz, I then collapsed onto the bed with a bounce, feeling oddly more content than I had for a really long time.

 

***

 

I woke up slowly, feeling groggy and somewhat disorientated, as I blinkingly got my bearings.

Matthew was lying down with the side of his face nestled against my chest and the rest of his body plastered right against mine, as he watched some or other reality show on the room's cheap TV. The sound of the rain still falling outside, lighter now but still persistent, and the feeling of the kid's warm body so comfortably at ease nestled along my own, made me close my eyes for a little longer, just so that I could properly bask in this odd new sense of serenity.

In our proximity, I could smell the kid's hair, the - surprisingly nice and fresh - scent of the free hotel shampoo tickling against my nose along with the messy spikes of his shocking blue hair.

"I see you've already made use of the freebies," I commented, my voice a bit husky from my unexpected nap.

Typically, Matthew jolted in surprised and jumped away to the edge of the bed. The expression on his face, one of guilt and embarrassment. Like a little boy who'd been caught with his hand in a sweet jar.

"O-oh, uh, D-Dom. Y-you're awake," he stammered, cheeks flushing and so highlighting those sharp, high cheekbones of his.

"Ah-huh," I nodded, unable to hold back the smile curling my lips as I sat up a bit on the bed.

"S-sorry, was I-I, uh, ov-over-step-stepping?" he asked biting the swell of his bottom lip nervously, doing his best to keep his eyes on mine.

"Er..." I thought about it. Did I feel he'd been overstepping, to just lie against (and on) me like that? Well, my mind was quick to remind me, it wasn't like we hadn't cuddled even before today's odd turn... "Um, no, no. Relax, Matt," I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant about the whole thing. I mean, after earlier, him snuggling against me was practically nothing.

He still looked rather apprehensive and unsure, so I opened my arms in a welcoming gesture. I couldn't quite believe the turn our relationship had taken, yet as he cautiously moved to settle in my loose embrace, I could only hold him closer. I suppose it was all inevitable; what with the strange new way I'd begun to view the kid and then of course his ever obvious manner of showing he definitely still had a crush on me. The shy glances and staring, the near constant flushing of his face...

"So..." he began cautiously, his bottom lip caught once more between his skew teeth, bright blue eyes gazing up at me through his dark lashes.

"So...?" I mirrored him, looking searchingly back into those eyes. They reflected what appeared to be vulnerability and shyness, but the hope - and what I suspected may be excitement - shining through was undeniable. He just blushed under my scrutiny though, his eyes dropping to look at where his hands lay clenched together in his lap.

I moved to brush some of his outgrown shock of blue hair out of his eyes and behind his ear. The shiny metal of his many ear piercings glinted in the dull light of the room and I'm sure I saw him tremble ever so slightly.

"Your hair's still slightly damp," I observed and his flush returned, the pink hue even present in the newly revealed shell of his left ear.

"I only towel dried, didn't want to risk waking you with the dryer," he explained, still not looking up at me, his hands apparently the most fascinating things in the room at that moment.

I just hummed in reply, pulling him closer against me in our seated position on the bed, our bodies now pressed together shoulder to thigh.

"Is this what you want?" I asked, reaching out to then raise his chin with my left hand, ensuring that he had to look at me, my right arm still firmly wrapped around his skinny body. I didn't need to elaborate, it was obvious what I was asking him.

"Y-yes." His voice sounded small and shaky, but the clear determination in his eyes was all the answer I needed.

So I closed my eyes for the briefest beat of time, just to let everything sink in, before I opened them to find him still staring back at me anxiously. The look that must have been present in my eyes, made him stop biting on his now swollen bottom lip.

"Matt," I began, not sure what to say.

"Dom." He practically breathed the word, soft pink lips parting, as those azure eyes of his dropped to look at my own mouth before they darted right back to look directly into my eyes again.

So, without further thought to it all, I just leaned forward, closer towards him, before lightly brushing our lips together. The soft, gentle puff of his breath against my mouth encouraged me to apply more pressure as I now properly united our lips. Ever eager, he of course was quick to try kiss me back, already opening his mouth easily in surrender to me.

It was still painfully obvious that he was awfully new to the concept of kissing, despite definite improvement from earlier, but I tried to just push aside the thoughts and reasons as to why this was the case. Right now I just wanted to please the kid, not worry about how very fucked up his introduction to this aspect of life was.

Besides, what he lacked in skill and experience, he made up in with enthusiasm and an obvious desire to please.

"Careful, Matt. Gently, like this," I tried to guide him, having pulled back a bit after our teeth had knocked for the umpteenth time, "let me show you how. Let me lead."

"S-sorry," he apologised against my lips, but I just lifted my left hand to run it through his hair, before establishing a good grip on the silky strands behind his head.

Using my grip, I tried to keep him steady and lead him, as I gently then ran my tongue along his own, making him whimper ever so deliciously.

_'Deliciously'? Seriously, Dominic?_

But as our tongues found a rhythm, my own fully mapping out what I'd yet to of the slick cavern of his mouth, I realised that delicious was precisely the best adjective to describe his innocently tentative kissing.

Naturally my other hand raised to cup his jaw as I tilted his head back to deepen the kiss even further, my left hand's fingers scrunching in his thick hair making him hum and groan into my mouth. When we pulled apart to catch our breath, I couldn't resist nuzzling against his ear, his blue hair still tucked behind it. His sudden responsive intake of breath, however, made me halt my actions. Curious, I then ran my tongue along one of the small metal studs, making him tremble slightly. Not quite believing it, I then proceeded to carefully take the metal ball between my teeth and gently tug on it. The undeniable tremble of his body and sharp gasp from him was all the confirmation I needed.

Bingo.

When I then pulled back a bit look into his eyes, it was to find them hooded with arousal, his pupils wide. I couldn't hold back a smirk, as I let my right thumb trace the shiny swell of his swollen bottom lip, my hand still cupping his jaw. The corners of his sweet, little mouth tilted upwards shyly.

"Did you like that?" He just nodded bashfully back in reply, unable to retain my gaze. "Cute," I grinned, before then leaning back in to run my tongue along the shell of his ear, causing him to practically melt against me.

He was just so responsive and completely pliant - putty in my hands - falling down backwards as I left his ear to kiss him once more; deeper and more urgently than before, my body weight having begun to press more against him. He whined as our mouths were separated briefly in the process, but I simply just corrected my positioning so as best to continue with our heated snogging.

My body now draped over his, my fingers knotted into his soft, thick hair, while his own clutched at my upper arms as he whimpered and moaned into the kiss, I became increasingly aware of the fact that he was hard. With our bodies now pressed together it was impossible not to feel his erection pushing into my hip through our clothing.

I could hardly feign shock or surprise, as it was really only to be expected considering everything, and besides, I could feel my own answering arousal hardening. And by the increased moaning on his end of the kissing and the way his hips had begun to unconsciously rise beneath me a bit, I knew he could feel me too.

And without actually really thinking about it properly, his sweet, heady kissing knocking me for a loop, the addictive sounds coming from him filling my ears, I rolled my hips downwards, shifting so that the definite bulges in out trousers rubbed. The way he gasped loudly in reply, his mouth opening even more, I couldn't resist repeating the roll of my pelvis into his. His answering gasping and the high moan he released into my mouth, had me enraptured and I found myself needing to hear more from him. Feel more of him.

Using my teeth, I tugged on the surprisingly juicy pillow of his bottom lip, the fingers of my right hand back to kneading his scalp, while those of my left began to gently tug and flick at the piercings in his right ear, having taken note of the effect this had on him. The combination of it all proved to be his undoing as he whined and writhed desperately against me, only spurring me on further. The sounds coming from him had me under a spell.

It was all a little too late when some semblance of sense finally resurfaced and I realised exactly where this was all heading.

Matthew was lying beneath me, pupils blown wide yet his eyes struggling to focus on me, his swollen, wet lips parted in a silent request for me to continue kissing him, as his hips rose instinctively in rhythm against my own achieving only the best kind of friction. I could already feel that familiar warmth tingle and prickle at the base of my spine, ready and coiled to unleash itself. I shouldn't, I couldn't, but... I was already too far gone.

Impatient in his own obviously impending release, the kid let go of where his bony fingers had been digging into my arms, to instead grab onto my hair and pull my mouth back down to crash onto his own. Suddenly gone was his clumsily naïve kissing, replaced by raw, wanton need, his tongue pushing its way into my mouth and effectively stealing my breath. It was all I could do but kiss him just as desperately in return, his hips beginning to stutter against my own.

I knew this was wrong. It had to be. We'd gone too far. I'd gone too far. I should stop and pull away while I still could--

But I couldn't. I was incapable of it, too far gone and absorbed in the moment. There was just no going back.

The proof of this came along just then as Matthew's body suddenly stilled beneath me, his ankles having hooked with my own, holding me tightly against him before he shuddered, coming undone, and a pitching whimper escaped him. The realisation of it all hit me so suddenly, deep in my gut and even lower still, forcing my own climax to rush me at full force. I couldn't help from gasping, as my forearms gave way beneath me unexpectedly, bringing me down completely atop him as my whole body rushed with warmth and undeniable pleasure; lighting my synapses and forcing my eyes shut.

My breathing heavy and senses only slowly stabilising to normal, I was reminded of the fact that my full weight still lay on the kid's smaller and lighter body, so I tiredly flipped over onto my back beside him. My eyes felt heavy, yet my body was still tingling with the glorious rush of afterglow, distracting my mind of the complications of the entire situation. At least for the moment.

"W-wow."

The panted, breathless utterance from beside me, prompted me to open my eyes and tilt my head to regard the kid.

My eyes were first drawn to his shock of electric blue hair, which was all over the place - even messier than usual - in damp clumps from where I'd clutched at it. I then took in the way his slight chest heaved, desperate for more air, beneath that old grey jersey of his, which had ridden up revealing the milky-white skin of his lower belly and the two red and black stars, which were cradled inside those sharp hipbones of his. Of course my devious eyes moved lower, before I was even properly aware of the fact, having followed the skinny dusting of hair which led down from his bellybutton into the low riding waistline of his jeans, to see the evidence of what had just taken place. His faded old jeans - perhaps once properly black - didn't hide the undeniable damp patch, which suddenly commanded my attention.

"Dom?"

That is until he whispered my name, his voice giving away the insecurity and anxiety he was obviously feeling towards how I was going to respond to what had just happened. So, anxious and unsure myself of what I would find in his eyes, I swallowed before looking back up into them, the memory of how he'd cried so bitterly that night so long ago now, still too fresh in my mind.

His pretty blue eyes were hooded and lazily, however. Not a sign of any tears in sight. Aside from the concern and anxiety reflected through them, they were perfectly relaxed; he in fact looked, well... satisfied.

"You okay?" I asked just to make sure, careful to maintain some distance between us.

"Okay? Jeez, I'm way more than okay," he smiled bashfully, cheeks flushing a bit. "A-and you?" he then asked, voice barely hiding that vulnerability I could still see in his eyes.

"Yeah, pretty much the same," I nodded as I felt my own cheeks heat. "Shit, though, haven't come in my pants since I was a teen."

In reaction his eyes seemed to automatically dip to glance at my crotch - the evidence of this statement luckily couldn't be seen through my track pants though - before hurriedly shooting back up to look at me again sheepishly. His cheeks blazing with embarrassment. I just cracked a small smile in response. Hey, we were all curious by nature.

"Relax, Matt," I reassured him, reaching the small distance between us to tuck some of that unruly blue hair behind his right ear. He just nodded, before blushing, in response.

I couldn't resist leaning in then to place a short, chaste kiss to his already kiss-swollen lips, my brain and body still all aflutter with the heady warmth of afterglow, the likes of which I surprisingly hadn't felt for an extremely long time. Yet here I was, mind, body and soul set strangely at ease and all my concern and questions I had for him, momentarily put on the backburner.

I just wanted to enjoy this sense of everything, but the two of us, being shut out and put aside, for as long as I could. And so we lay on the bed for a while, that small gap between us still very much present, and in comfortable silence, neither making a sound aside from that of our breathing evening out to a steady low hum.

"We should probably wash up," I mumbled reluctantly, wanting to lay a bit more, though my shifting made me more aware of the feel of my cum drying uncomfortably in my pants.

The kid, however, just grumbled sleepily beside me, prompting me to turn to face him. He'd moved to lay on his side, facing me, his eyes closed, long, dark lashes casting shadows across his sharp cheekbones.

"Matt?" I asked, reaching out to run my hands through his hair. It was strange, now that the last of our physical barriers had broken down, I couldn't seem to keep my hands off those blue strands. He just scrunched his nose up a bit, before nestling his face into the pillow once more. "C'mon, we gotta clean up. You're gonna get itchy otherwise..." Seeing that he didn't appear to even want to budge, I just sighed, but a strange sense of affection warmed inside of me. "Okay, I'll go clean up first, but then you've gotta get up, Matt."

After I just heard him grunt into the pillow as a form of reply, I shook my head and got up, before grabbing a pair of jeans and another pair of boxers. It was hardly surprising he was so sleepy, I guess. He'd had an early morning (well for him), a tiring walk in the rain like me and then of course what had taken place between us... but, unlike me, he hadn't had an afternoon nap.

So, having shut the bathroom door behind myself, I quickly rid myself of my trousers and boxers, before grabbing one of the small washcloths and wetting it, so that I could wipe myself down.

Once cleaned, I then put on my fresh boxers and my jeans, before hastily washing my soiled boxers as best I could. I then hung them up right next to the rest of our clothes, which had gotten soaked in the rain. Clearly Matthew had kindly hung up my wet things after finding I'd fallen asleep before I could. As for my track pants, they could go in my suitcase with the rest of my dirty clothes, I had enough pairs of trousers; sadly I was now onto my third pair of boxers in one day...

Feeling refreshed down below, so to say, I then headed back into the room to find that the kid hadn't budged since last I'd seen him.

"Oi, Matt!" I called, startling him and so thankfully getting his attention, as he slowly sat up looking blearily back at me, a definite case of bedhead (well sex hair I supposed) at work. "Go clean up and then we should go and find dinner. I can't believe we missed lunch."

"I didn't wanna wake you up," he shrugged with a yawn, before getting to his feet and shuffling off to sort himself out.

"We probably should've gotten some food right after our ride on The Eye," I grumbled after him as he gathered some clean things and headed for the bathroom. "I guess we just got a little sidetracked though..."


	17. Chapter 17

We grabbed a quick meal at a nearby chippie of fish and chips, classically wrapped in newspaper no less, which Matthew had actually wolfed down, much to my surprise. Conversation stuck to inane and simple topics, neither of us mentioning the new side to our relationship. 

The only real visible change to what our relationship was like before Matthew had kissed me on The Eye, was the fact that he held my hand the entire walk to the chippie and then back again. I didn't dare question this, nor deny him it. He clearly seemed to need the reassurance and, to be honest, I found I rather liked holding his hand myself.

After we'd eaten, we headed right back to our hotel, the weather not really having improved much, aside from the relentless rain having calmed down.

"I don't suppose you'll wait with me?" he asked timidly, finally letting go of my hand to instead reach inside his jacket for his smokes and a lighter when we'd reached the area by the entrance where the guests were allowed to smoke. Since I'd been sick, I'd cut back on my own smoking a lot, perhaps 'cause my chest had still felt tight for a while afterwards. The kid on the other hand had hopped right back to it, same as usual.

"Um, sure, 'course I will," I nodded, smiling back when his face instantly split into a thankful grin.

"Thanks, Dom," he said as he freed a lone cigarette, before putting the box back into his pocket and then attempted to light up the chosen one, but the strong wind was hampering his attempts.

"Here, let me help. You cup your hands and I'll light you up," I offered, putting my hand out for the lighter, which he handed right over.

He then balanced the white stick between those small, pink lips of his and brought up his long, bony hands to act as windbreakers. This time, when I attempted to light the end of the cigarette, it lit up straight away and Matthew took a deep appreciative pull afterwards, before blowing out a long plume of smoke, the act instantly sending my head spinning.

"Thanks," he smiled shyly, before taking another long drag, those sharp cheekbones of his highlighted all the more as his cheeks hollowed with the action. I suppose it should've been a small wonder that I felt my dick begin to thicken and harden in response.

_Fuck._

Naturally I found my mind drifting to another kind of scenario, which involved a very similar action and look on his part...

"Dom?" I tore my eyes away from where they still lingered on his sweet little mouth, to those bright blue eyes, the pupils of which I couldn't help noticed had dilated some.

"Er, yeah?" I asked, feeling myself flush a little, having missed whatever he must've asked me.

"Um, I just, uh, asked if you'd like a smoke too? You look pretty fixated," he answered timidly, his free hand coming up to self-consciously brush some of his shock of blue fringe out his eyes.

"Oh, uh," at this point I was probably blushing as badly as he so often did, so I figured I may as well be a little honest anyway. "It wasn't the cigarette I was looking at. Not really..."

In response those pretty azure eyes widened a little, before - not so subtly - dropping to look down at my crotch. The action made my stomach knot and twist, for all sorts of reasons.

"My eyes are up here..." I couldn't help saying and his face instantly flushed bright as he ducked his head, clearly embarrassed.

"I-I'm s-sorry..."

"Relax," I smiled kindly, reaching out to lift his chin gingerly, so that he was looking back up at me. "Come on, finish up so we can go get warm back inside."

He nodded as I let go of him, before taking another drag of his almost forgotten cigarette.

Neither of us spoke again really, until the kid stubbed out his finished fag and we agreed to head up to our room, the cold outside really having begun to work its way through our clothing.

"I'm still so tired," Matthew yawned loudly, as I closed our room door behind us.

"You gonna go straight to sleep then?" I asked him, shrugging off my coat before hanging it up, the kid following my lead.

"Hmm, maybe. Why, what else is there to do? What do you have planned?" he asked curiously, halting in the act of removing his trainers like I was doing with my own shoes. Despite how obviously hard he was trying to hide it, I could still see the way his cheeks had flushed, the answering pull at my gut an instant warning.

"Erm, I don't know, I'll probably watch some telly before I go to sleep," I shrugged, scratching the back of my neck as I tried my best to look calm and normal.

"Oh... okay," he replied, trying to crack a smile as he nodded, but I could definitely see an odd edge to his actions; something that looked suspiciously like disappointment.

"Do you wanna use the bathroom first or?" I asked, but the kid had already sat down heavily (well as heavily as he could I supposed) on the bed.

"Nah, it's okay, you go first," he replied, eyes fixated on the task of him once more resuming to undo his old Converse.

"Erm, okay..." I nodded, before grabbing the tee I'd been sleeping in and yet another clean pair of boxers and headed off to shower and change.

Once I was finished, now wearing the white tee and my light blue and navy striped boxers, I padded back into the room, today's clothes draped over my arm to be stored with the rest of my 'dirty' things. Matthew was lying on his belly watching telly, socked feet lazily kicking in the air. As soon as he saw me though, he hopped up and, grabbing his own change of clothes, which he'd had beside himself, he took his own turn to get ready for bed.

I was busy watching the end of the old rebroadcast of The Jonathan Ross Show, which Matthew had been watching when I'd come in, when he re-emerged. When I glanced up at him, I'd had to do a double take. For, as well as that grey long sleeve tee of his, he was also wearing a pair of tight, red boxer briefs, which I'd definitely not seen before. I realised then, that they must've been in the pack I'd bought him the other day. Damn, but who would've though that they'd look so good on his skinny, little figure?

Of course my eyes were drawn to the damn things, especially when he bent down to stuff his clothes into his black kitbag. I felt my dick literally jump, as I was able to make out the cleft of his arse in the thin, red material.

_Goddamn, Dom, get a hold of yourself!_

When he straightened up and turned around again, I had to struggled to compose myself, but he still caught me checking him out and the both of us instantly flushed bright pink as our eyes briefly met, before we both had to look away.

_Oh, brother. What the hell has happened to me? It's like I'm a horny teenager all over again!_

I didn't look up from where my hands were awkwardly bunching the sheets over my crotch, willing my body to calm down, as Matthew turned off the room light and padded over quietly. I only looked up once he'd shuffled into the bed next to me.

"So..." he began, the credits of the show now rolling on the screen, his eyes shielded by his long lashes as he gazed down at where my hands were gripping the sheets.

"So," I mirrored, eyes moving from his shielded ones to his mouth, his bottom lip snagged between those skew front teeth of his. I should have guessed as much, except this time it was completely different from his usual nervous displacement habit. This time it was... well, distinctly sexual and it sure a hell got a response from my already half-hard cock.

My hands having halted in their fidgeting to instead settle still upon my lap, Matthew's startlingly blue eyes slid back up to regard me shyly, as he then released his trapped lip. I felt lost in those deep pools of blue, like the kid could quite literally see through to my soul. I could only swallow, as I more sensed than actually saw (I was too focused on his eyes) him move the tiny distance that separated us.

It felt so natural leaning forward to meet his lips in a gentle kiss, the tenderness melting through my body and slowing down my rapid heartbeat. It was ridiculous to think how much our relationship's dynamics had changed in the past several hours, let alone since we'd first (properly) met.

As the kiss began to deepen and intensify more, my tongue wetly sliding over his, dominating his willing mouth and making him softly whimper into my own mouth, we seemed to shift. I somehow ended up with the kid's back plastered to my front, my body practically draped over his as our mouths never lost their rhythm, his confidence soaring.

When our mouths eventually separated, the two of us panting and out of breath, Matthew's head fell forward leaving the pale skin of his neck vulnerable to me. I couldn't resist leaving a trail of small, sucking kisses along his temptingly soft skin, causing him to moan quietly to himself. When I reached his jaw, I brushed aside his hair to expose the juicy lobe of his ear so that I could move to suck on that too, between gently tugging on the metal ring, which went through it, with my teeth.

This got the reaction I'd suspected it might - Matthew moaning from deep inside his throat - and a little more than I'd judged on. As I sucked and pulled on his ear he came undone, literally whining hotly into my own ear, before he bucked backwards, pushing his bum into my crotch and subsequently making me gasp out loudly too at the unexpected action.

The answering shudder, which I felt go through his body in response to no doubt finding me hard in my boxers, made me consider stopping while we were ahead, but then he began to properly grind back against me and I couldn't find the willpower to stop him. The delicious friction and feel of his boxer-clad arse rubbing against my restrained dick, had me biting back a deep, wanton moan of need.

Fuck it felt amazing. I could make out the valley of his arse through our boxers as he managed to sync us up, positioning my erection right between the two firm mounds of his bum. Instead of stopping him, slowing him down - we were moving way too fast into all of this - I just gripped his hip to steady him, my right hand moving underneath his body, effectively encircling him in my arms, as it splayed across his flat stomach.

He just panted hotly, before reaching his left hand behind himself to grab onto the side of my face so that he could pull me back into some more heated snogging. Toothpaste kisses; both of us having recently brushed our teeth, the undeniable mintiness was present as I ran my tongue along the back of his teeth. I could also still taste _him_ though and that, I suspect, is partly what stopped me from doing the honourable thing and putting an end to this.

With our movement, my own hips having eagerly joined the party and pushing up against his, his top had ridden up some and, feeling the heat coming off his addictively silky-soft skin, I hadn't been able to resist moving my hand from its place on his sharp hip. The high little gasp in response encouraged me and I slid my hand under his top, letting it rise to pull him even closer against myself.

He then just continued the dirty grind against my crotch, the act reminding me of my own grinding against his crotch earlier. All this dry humping, it was like I was a nervous, inexperienced teenager all over again. Much like Matthew was now... at least inexperienced in a context like this; when he wasn't high off his face and doing it for money or drugs in return. The thought sobered me up a bit. Well at least until I felt movement other than his backward thrusting.

I pulled out of the kiss to look over his shoulder and down his body to confirm my suspicions: he'd begun to rub himself through his boxers, his hand flat against his crotch.

"S-sorry," he apologised, cheeks flushed and voice throaty, conveying the need he so obviously felt.

"Um, n-no, s'fine," I tried to reassure him, feeling like a right selfish bastard all of a sudden, my eyes now fixated on where he was touching himself through the cherry-red boxers.

_Oh fuck it._

My left hand immediately abandoned its task of mapping out the smooth, hot skin of his abdomen, to instead drop lower and begin moving over his hand. His body's first reaction was to tense up, before completely melting even more into me, as he whined eagerly.

"Here, let me?"

His hand was immediately drawn away and he bucked back into me as if unable to hold back either his nerves or excitement, or even just his impatience; I couldn't tell.

As soon as I was then able to take over, cupping him through his boxers, he whimpered pushing himself as much against me as possible. The heat coming off of him was palpable, as was the feel of him, thick and hard, separated from the bare skin of my hand only by a thin layer of material. Even through the restrictive material, I could tell that he was surprisingly large and already leaking, the dampness which began to seep through and great me, undeniable.

I could feel his heart beating rapidly through his back, which was still pressed right against my chest, as we began to pick up the pace of our dry humping once more, the kid's enthusiasm practically tenfold what it was, if that was even possible.

"O-oh God," he panted as I rubbed the heel of my hand against round about where I assumed his cockhead was (the damp patch as good as any indication). I could feel his long toes curling against the tops of my feet, as I felt my balls beginning to tighten, that familiar warmth already starting to work through my body. I was already close, yet again simply just from a bit of cheeky dry humping. Okay, cheeky was putting it mildly, but still.

My right hand was still splayed against his stomach, though had at some point slid beneath his top, so I could feel the way his muscles bunched with his actions perfectly. The sound of him moaning, as he did his best to increase the pressure of his bum against my cock and then of him whimpering when I rubbed him through his pants, had my head spinning. It was small wonder I was already close with that all mixed then with the glorious sensation of his firm, little arse rubbing right against me where I now needed it most and then that of his hard length beneath my hand, reassuring me even further of just how much he wanted this too. How much he wanted _me._ There was little else that could stroke one's ego quite like that.

Matthew's head having fallen forward again, I tried to prop myself up a bit more on my right forearm, subsequently withdrawing the hand until just my fingers were still clutching the soft skin of his stomach, so that I could still make out his profile. This time, I realised, he'd dropped his head to watch the movement of my hand over him, his eyes completely transfixed: practically glazed over.

"You like that, huh?" I asked hotly against his ear, running my nose through the hair behind his ear, which was curling with his perspiration. He smelt amazing. I was slightly overwhelmed in fact, by the sent of shampoo and his sweat; shocked at how strongly it called to me and made my dick throb even more.

"Ah-huh," he nodded furiously, the grunt falling from his slackened mouth.

In response I decided to simply move my hand so that I could squeeze his shaft, making him cry out loudly and buck up against my hold, before shoving his arse back against my crotch in a way that forced my eyes shut and my mouth open in a silent moan.

Unintelligible moans and whimpers began to fall freely from his mouth, and I began to suspect that that hushed grunting I could also hear was coming from me, the both of us starting to lose our timing and rhythm, our climaxes fast approaching.

My nose still buried in his damp hair, my teeth sought out the metal of one of his ear piercings, before teasingly tugging on it, my body desperate for its own release, demanded his and I knew he liked me playing with his ears. It was quite cute really; the thought hit me randomly, pushing past all the more primal ones flooding my brain, the fact that his ears were such a erogenous zone for him. It actually made me smile then, as I licked and sucked and tugged away, Matthew completely undone in his frantic movements, before his breath suddenly hitched and he cried out.

Through the dampened material of his boxers, I could feel the way his cock throbbed, wetting them all the more as it dispersed his hot load. The filthy, personal act of him coming hard in his shorts, under my actions, was enough to let me finally let go too and follow his lead in shooting hot and hard into my own boxers, my trapped dick so perfectly positioned between his arse cheeks.

For some time we just lay like that then, not moving, the sound of our heavy panting combined with the soft hum of the TV, solely filled the room. I could feel his heart rapidly hammering through his back, and he could no doubt feel my own matching up. My nose was still buried in his hair, my sinuses greedily taking in the addictive scent of the shampoo and his sweat, mixed now more with what could only be his sex. It was distinctly male and gorgeous and instantly reassuring. He smelt like a man, not a boy.

My left hand was still cupping him, now loosely, through the wet material of his boxers, feeling the way he began to soften, but reluctant to move. My right hand, fingers once more splayed across his belly, silently took in the way it swelled slightly with his deep inhales, before completely deflating with his exhales. I could feel myself beginning to go soft too, tucked between the twin globes of his bum, the two layers of material which separated us seeming to have disappeared in their skin-tight wetness (thanks to my cum) which then moulded perfectly to our shapes.

Too comfortable and too spent to move, I just lay still, soaking it all up longer, Matthew clearly wanting to do the same, also made no move of shifting about, other than nuzzling his head into the pillows some.

After some time, I was beginning to wonder if I should move, worried that the kid might not be quite as comfortable as me, when I began to then pick up on his slow, gentle breathing, our heartbeats both having calmed down by now, his apparently more than mine, I only now took in. Carefully then, I raised my head a bit to get a look at his face, to see that he had indeed fallen fast asleep, his long dark lashes fluttered flat over the tops of his cheekbones and small, pink lips ever so slightly parted. He just looked so peaceful, that any regrets my mind - which was slowly beginning to get a hold of itself once more - could conjure up, just seemed to ebb away for the time being.

The TV was still humming and flashing in the dim light, only supplied by itself and the kid's bedside light. I felt so lethargic and serenely comfortable, that the thought of even moving seemed offensive; I even contemplated just leaving them on. But, in the end, I knew better, so I carefully tried to lean over Matthew without waking him, having freed my trapped right hand.

He just mumbled a couple of moans and a grunt in his sleep, as I scrambled around on his nightstand until I located the TV control and powered off the telly, before finding the lamp's switch and turning that off too, instantly plunging us into complete darkness. I then moved to lay back against him in a spooning position, left arm pulling him close against me once more, resulting in an admittedly adorable little sigh from him.

The cum in my shorts, the damp patch, had already cooled and a part of my brain grumbled that it was gross to sleep with them in the state they were in, but quite frankly I couldn't be bothered by that point. My eyes felt heavy as they began to adjust to the darkness, sleep lulling them shut, as I nuzzled my nose back into the tufts of hair at the back of his head. I felt so content; far more than I probably had any right to.


	18. Chapter 18

"Mind if we quickly stop off at Boots before we nab some dinner?" I asked Matthew, the two of us having spent most of the day goofing around at Madame Tussauds before just walking around London and taking everything in, hand-in-hand.

"Uh, sure, that's actually quite perfect. I was about to ask to go there myself," he nodded, baby-blues ducking to look down at where our intertwined hands swung between us.

"Yeah, why so?" I asked curiously, leading him into the store, a smile curling on my lips as he flushed somewhat.

"Um, uh, spot cream, um, I, er, need some?" he answered, only flushing all the more and looking like he wished he'd be swallowed by the ground beneath us.

"Oh, okay, sure," I smiled understandingly. He was just too cute. Sure he had a spot or two, but that was only to be expected at his age, surely? I honestly didn't mind at all.

"Um, what do you need to get?" he asked then, clearly eager to change the topic, his hand trying to let go of mine as he was clearly still embarrassed, but I just held on tighter.

"I wanna see if they have my shampoo. I forgot mine at home and the hotel shampoo is just reeking havoc on my hair; it looks so limp and sad," I explained, letting go of his hand to run my fingers through my gross hair.

"Nonsense! It looks great, Dom. _You_ look great, you always do!" the kid disagreed, looking shocked that I'd think such a thing.

"Matt, it's true. Your hair looks great, as for mine? Nope, _I_ need my special shampoo and products!" I grinned shaking my head, as he subconsciously ran his fingers through his own, bright-blue hair, before reaching over to touch my own blond hair gingerly.

"Dom, it's fine, seriously," he persisted, so I just rolled my eyes playfully.

"Let's just agree to disagree, hmm? Okay, well, I'm gonna go get that shampoo, meet you outside? Or would you like me to get the cream for you?"

"Um, no, no, it's fine. Don't worry about that. I'll just do it," the kid was quick to reply, face flushed once more, before, smiling and shaking my head affectionately, I left to go hunt down that shampoo.

In the end, it took me a while, but I came over victorious, the large store catering to many different varieties. So, newly purchased shampoo and conditioner (for you can't have just the one and not the other!) in hand, I went to wait for the kid outside in the brisk breeze outside. At least it wasn't raining today.

I ended up waiting a bit longer than I'd expected, but a brightly blushing and overly apologetic Matthew eventually met up with me, his own packet closely clutched.

"You set then?" I asked, unable to hold back a smile at his flustered self.

"Yes, yes. So s-sorry, again, about ma-making you wait, it's just, uh, I, um, couldn't f-find the stuff an-and--"

"Relax, Matt, it's chilled," I was quick to placate him. "So, what should we get for tea then?"

***

Stomachs full (well mine definitely was at least) of pasta, we arrived back to our room, where I excused myself to have a shower, the kid having showered this morning, and finally replenish my hair.

As I rinsed the shampoo suds out of my hair, my mind went back to the fact that Matthew still hadn't eaten a lot, despite us having gone to a small Italian restaurant for pasta; a dish he actually loved... He'd actually acted a bit oddly throughout dinner in fact, constantly blushing and stuttering whenever I'd looked at him as he spoke.

Hair rinsed, I shut off the water and stepped out the bathtub, having put the shower nozzle back in place, and grabbed my towel to dry myself down.As I began to get dressed then, I couldn't help but notice that no noises were coming from the room. Matthew clearly wasn't watching the telly. Odd...

Having hung up my towel and brushed my teeth, I ran my fingers through my wet hair, before opening the door to the room, eager to now blow dry my newly washed hair.All thoughts of drying my hair, however, were immediately forgotten as I stepped into the room and got a brief eyeful of a very much naked Matthew lying on our bed, before I hurriedly looked away.

"Matthew?!" I asked, voice rising in pitch with my shock. "What the fuck?!"

"U-um, I-I, uh, I ju-just, er..." his voice just trailed off though, its nervous stuttering too much for me.

"God, just cover yourself up, Matt," I instructed with a sigh, before giving him some time and then turning around to see he'd grabbed one of the pillows (his I was pleased to see) to cover his crotch in his now cross-legged position. "Matthew," I then sighed, his eyes trained on where his hands were fidgeting atop the pillow, that bottom lip of his caught between his teeth. "What are you doing?"

His body practically curling in on itself, he just shrugged, still not looking up, as my eyes then saw what was on his bedside table. Ah, so that's why he'd taken so long at Boots.

"Condoms and lube? Matthew, what were you thinking? We can't just have sex..."

At this, his head finally actually raised so that he could look at me, his posture clearly still mortified, but confusion dominated his expression.

"Wh-why n-not?" he asked, hurt creeping into his blue eyes.

"'Cause, Matt... that'd be... that'd be too much. You're still so young and... well, I'm not. I don't want to take advantage of you," I tried to explain, guilt curling inside my gut. He shouldn't feel so pressured into having sex! I wasn't anything like those others... Despite what had happened _that_ night.

His eyebrows just drew together in a frown though. "You wouldn't be though! I want this," he pleaded, azure eyes burning into my own. "Besides, it isn't much more than what we've already done? Surely this is just the next step?"

"But, Matthew, it is. Sex is _so_ much more," I disagreed, not liking the way his frown only seemed to deepen.

"An-and h-how's that? Sex has s-so many diff-different definitions. Wh-who says it's as simple and only re-restricted to pen-penetration? It's s-so much br-broader than ju-just that. Dom, we've b-both made each other c-come. Twice. To m-me that is already s-sex," he argued, his posture beginning to stiffen.

"Matthew..." I sighed in frustration. He had a point... but technically... "It is still different though. And, anyway, what we've already done went much further than it should've as it is..."

"Ugh, wh-why are you being so condescending to me about this?! I don't even know what the big deal is, we've already _had_ sex before! I've also had sex with other men; I'm not a blushing virgin, Dominic. I know what I'm getting myself into!" He was shouting now, stutter completely gone.

I couldn't help the regret, which flooded through me, snaking around my throat and chest; twisting.

"And I regret that. Every day of my life. I should never have abused your trust like that; because of that I blame myself for everything that happened afterwards. What happened with all those other men. I skewed your introduction into the world of sex and so consequently your perception and understanding of it. Can't you understand that's why I'm so hesitant in whatever this is that's happening between us? I'm terrified of messing you up any more. What I've already allowed was probably a mistake, we should really just stop while we're ahead."

"W-what? N-no, you haven't m-messed me up! Wh-what are you ta-talking about? Th-this isn't a mistake! D-Dominic," suddenly he was back to stuttering, a rising note of panic clear in his voice and crumbling exterior. "I-I th-thought you were ha-happy too? Th-this is the best th-thing to ever ha-happen to me!"

"Exactly, Matthew... Ugh," I groaned in frustration, dragging my hands down my face. "You're still a kid, don't you understand? Sure it's amazing and great during, but after the fact, I always feel like a dirty, old pervert."

"I'm not a kid! Goddammit, Dominic! You have to stop thinking of me like that! I'm a man! I shave! I can legally drive, as well as legally drink! I'm well over the age of consent! What more must I do to get you to see that?!"

"You may think you're all grown up already, I know I did when I was your age, but, Matthew, you're not. You are still a kid. You deserve so much better than me; someone closer to your age for a start," I sighed, sitting down at the foot of the bed, no longer looking at his anger and hurt-filled expression.

"Fuck's sake, Dominic!! I know I don't deserve you! Just not the way you think. You have no need to feel guilty or bad; you've done more for me than anyone else ever has in my life. All I want is you, can't you get that? This is all I want, but you're just ruining that. Why must you be so ridiculous! Age really is just a number! I'm old enough to know what I want. Who I want. I want _you_ , Dom. More than anything else. Why must you be so stubborn? Please, look at me? Just turn around. Dom? Dominic? I want you and... after the past two days, I know you want me too. Come on, Dom, please?" He'd started to beg, his voice beginning to break.

"Matthew, I... I can't..." I replied in barely a whisper, my face buried in my hands. I couldn't do it. I shouldn't do it. This had all just been a huge mistake. I was bad for the kid. He needed to establish a more normalised life and a relationship with a man who was a good decade his senior would not give him that.

"B-but, Dom..." His voice was full of hurt and vulnerability; I just couldn't bear to turn around.So, it was with small wonder that I then felt the bed dip and rise, before I heard his hurried footfalls followed by the sound of the bathroom door slamming.

The distinct sound of him sniffling could then be heard, before the sound of the bath water running loudly cut it off.

I felt awful; I'd just gone and upset the kid all over again. But I'd done the right thing, though, surely?

He did deserve someone much better. Especially after what I'd done to him in the past. I couldn't afford to misuse his trust again and take advantage of his vulnerability. I really did still feel so awful after that episode and to be honest I still haven't forgiven myself for it. I was still kind of shocked Matthew had been so quick to though.

But then again... I'd then just been leading him on, ever since I'd kissed him back on the London Eye. That wasn't fair either. I should have known that the kid would just have expected it all to lead to sex. I mean, he was a teenage boy after all. Sex was at the forefront. Heck, that had nothing to even do with him being a teenager! Pretty much all modern-day, consenting relationships led to that...

As I sat there on the edge of the bed, feeling guilty and awful beyond belief, along with the occasional splash of water as he moved, I could also hear muffled sniffling coming from the bathroom, the water now done running. Naturally this made me feel even more awful.

Had I made a mistake freaking out on Matthew like that? Rejecting him?

Shit, I'd probably just gone and done him more harm. He was a terribly shy person to begin with; I can't even imagine how much courage it must have taken for him to take that risk with me, only for me to then throw it back in his face. What must he think?

That I didn't want him? That I didn't fancy him? That he was worthless, like his family so obviously thought...

What did I even want?

Looking back, I really had begun to see the kid in a different light. I'd definitely grown attracted, sexually, to him for one. So did _I_ want this? Well... The way my subconscious regretted me not having had a proper look at Matthew when he'd been practically spread out for me, completely naked, plus the fact that my boxers were a bit tighter since having walked in to find him like that, was pretty much all the answer I needed. Obviously I wanted it.

The question wasn't clearly whether either of us _wanted_ it, but whether it was the best course of action to take for his sake...

As my eyes then drifted to the condoms and lube he'd bought, it was to see he'd actually bothered to pick out the good stuff. Durex, eh, Matthew? Clearly he'd put some thought into it and not skimmed on the cash either.

Sighing then at the seemingly impossible situation I found myself in, I fell back against the bed covers. What to do?

As I lay there, listening to the gentle splashing of the water and the sound of him shuffling about, along with him sniffling and clearly trying hard to keep his sobbing quite, my thoughts pulled themselves together to make a decision.

He'd had a point, we'd _had_ sex before... and considering how that had gone; I definitely owed it to him to make up for it. He deserved to have his experience improved upon. And didn't I want to be the one to do it?

Did I really want what had only just begun to bloom between us to end?

Dammit, we'd already gone so far, and I really did want this and Matthew had repeatedly said he did too... He was right, I had to stop condescending and emasculating him...

Heart hammering with nerves as I heard the sound of the drain going, Matthew obviously having pulled the plug, I knew my time to make a decision was running out.

So it was that I found myself, yanking off my old tee and moving to drape myself over the middle of the bed. Suddenly I felt completely ridiculous and nervous; now absolutely vulnerable to whatever he decided. My respect for the kid went up tenfold. Unlike him, I didn't quite have the nerve to completely strip; my boxers would just have to do.

I was beginning to doubt myself, when I suddenly heard the door open from the bathroom and then Matthew was sheepishly slinking into the room, his eyes cast downwards and only wearing his white, hotel towel, which was tightly wrapped around his skinny waist.

He looked completely withdrawn and timid.

"F-forgot my cl-clothes," he felt the need to explain, still not daring to look up at me as he made his way over to his black kit bag.

"Matt, come here," I tried to coax, using my best attempt at an enticing voice. "Look, I'm sorry..."

He looked up then, only to frown deeply with confusion, before I then gestured for him to come over.

"D-Dominic?" he asked, completely uncertain of himself and what was going on. Who could blame him? I'd done a complete 180 on him.

"Matt, I'm sorry, I thought about it and, well, I shouldn't have shot you down quite so hastily. Will you give me a second chance? I promise I'll try to not fuck up this time. You were right, I was being unfair, I have to start seeing you for the man that you are," I tried to explain myself, my heart sinking in my chest as I took in his red-rimmed eyes, as he cautiously took a couple steps closer.

"A-are you sure about th-this?" he asked carefully, hesitantly wavering by the edge of the bed, naked, fragile vulnerability all over his features and in those stunning blue eyes, which were still a bit pink and watery.

"Only if you are. I don't want you to feel pressured into any of this," I replied, sitting up a bit more against my pillows. "So, are you sure about this, Matt?"

"Yes. More than anything," he nodded determinedly, yet still did not make a move to advance any closer, what confidence he'd managed to muster together earlier, long since having left him.

"Well then... why not come here and join me?" I offered, moving aside a bit and indicating toward the space beside me.

So, ever so gingerly, he climbed on and awkwardly shuffle-crawled toward me, clearly very conscious of the fact that he was only wearing a towel. He then just leaned against the cushions next to me, teeth back to nervously gnawing on that bottom lip, as his eyes were trained on his hands, which were clenching and unclenching.

"Matt, here, look at me?" I asked, reaching out to cup his face with my left hand as he shyly complied to my request. "You know that I didn't reject you because I don't want you, right?" I asked carefully, running my thumb along the ridge of his sharp cheekbone.

When he just shrugged, his eyes dropping from mine, I felt truly awful. What tiny bit of self-confidence he'd manage to obtain had clearly been dashed by my rejection.

"Oh, Matt," I sighed. "I do want you. I really do and maybe that's just part of the problem? Why I feel so guilty... But trust me, don't doubt yourself, I do want you." And, to prove my point, I then leaned in to gift those perfect little pillows he had for lips with a kiss. "I want you to tell me if you're not comfortable with anything, okay? Don't hesitate to speak up."

Pretty eyes still fixed on my mouth, he just nodded, before leaning back in to tentatively invite more kisses. Naturally I couldn't resist and so kissed him some more, but more deeply this time, coaxing his small mouth open, before gently probing with my tongue until he sighed deeply and surrendered to me. Our minty breaths mingled as our mouths moved together in perfect sync, the kid's kissing completely unrecognisable from the awkward, unsure kissing I'd first discovered on the London Eye. He was clearly a quick learner, I realised, an admitted thrill tingling at the base of my spine at this realisation.

As I kissed him deeply, my tongue rolling against its slick partner in his mouth, I began to shift him downwards, to lie him flat down on the bed, my hands having moved to clutch him around his narrow waist to do so. His body just complied completely, allowing me to move him to my will, as his hands clung to my shoulders.

When I had him where I wanted him, I pulled out of the kiss to look down at him. His eyes were still a bit red-rimmed from having cried, but now their pupils were expanding widely as he gazed up at me and his small pink lips parted ever so slightly. As my gaze then began to travel more south, to take all of him in properly, his hands falling away to rest on either side of his skinny body, the hastened rising and falling of his slight chest gave away his obvious nerves under my scrutiny.

The first thing which came to my attention as my suddenly very hungry eyes took in the flawlessly pale alabaster of his torso, were the sharp, angular shapes of his pronounced collarbones, the right highlighted with the curling script of that tattoo. _Stay strong_. Without really thinking too much about it, I found myself leaning down to place soft little kisses along it, the sound of Matthew's breath hitching only serving to punctuate the action.

"Is that okay?" I asked carefully, wanting to be sure, as my eyes then flitted back to look at his face, his head propped up on one of the pillows.

"Y-yes," he flushed and nodded.

I just smiled sadly back at him, before quickly pecking his lips again. I couldn't help but remember his earlier protest about not being a blushing virgin. Clearly, despite the fact, he still really was in a way. The thought occurred to me that he'd probably never even been sober in the past.

I then turned my attention back to his body, which was laid open and oh so willingly and invitingly to me.

My eyes lighted on the two darkened nubs of his nipples, their colouring making them stand out from the rest of his milky-white skin. My close proximity to them, my hot breath mere inches away from the right one, clearly didn't go unnoticed, as they both raised and hardened, just begging for my attention. Who was I to ignore them? So I let my tongue sneak out and gently lap at the straining, dark little bud before me. It was only expected when his breath hitched once more.

Smiling, I then lifted my hand to squeeze the opposite nipple, my mouth moving to now latch onto the one in front of me. It proved to be too much for him to lie still any longer, as he began to moan and writhe a bit beneath me. I didn't stop though, my addiction to his responsive little body already well established. Instead, I simply began to roll the hardened little bud between my teeth gently, in between laving it soothingly with my tongue. For the opposite one, my fingers similarly rolled it between the pads of their tips and flicked and tugged at it gently. After a bit, I pulled away, only to then blow cold air over the glistening little nub, making him whine and mewl needily and the skin surrounding the area to break out in little goosebumps.

Satisfied by his body's response, I then shifted to move lower down his body, my own hovering above his. I couldn't help but note how damn skinny the kid really was, his ribs were fairly easy to make out beneath his pale skin, as my fingers absentmindedly stroked down their bumpy ridges. Naturally the monochrome tattoo he had of the little birds in flight over the lower left side of his ribcage, then caught my interest.

Chris really had outdone himself, the fine detailing was truly spectacular, only then made all the more lifelike as they seemed to flutter with every one of Matthew's shaky breaths. My hands then led down to his flat little tummy, which he was self-consciously sucking in; only serving to further exaggerate the prominence of his ribs and hipbones, which poked up just above the damp towel wound around his waist.

I couldn't resist but lean in and blow a couple raspberries against the milky flesh of his belly, causing him to splutter into giggles, and it to inflate in response to his curling, spasming body, as he tried to push me off.

"D-Dom-Dominic!!" he giggled wildly, gasping for air then when I stopped to grin down mischievously at him.

"There, that's better, stop being so silly," I said, moving to nuzzle his tummy and gently gift the silky-smooth skin with light kisses.

My close proximity caused my nostrils to fill with his sent: fresh minty shower gel (which I knew to be that of my own; he'd clearly helped himself to it) and what could only just be pure Matthew. He definitely smelt good, I thought, gently nuzzling downwards, until my nose was tickled by the sparse trail of hair leading down from his navel and disappearing into the towel.

He was still wriggling and squirming a bit at the ticklishness, his body truly sensitive, so I withdrew, my hands now clutching his sharp, narrow hips, either thumb pressed into the two matching black and red star tattoos he had.

"Last time I'm gonna ask, are you sure about this?" I asked quietly, thumbs moving lower to gently rub along where the pale, baby-soft skin of his lower waist met the fluffy white of the towel.

"Y-yes, Dom. I'm sure. Honest." Although clearly nervous, Matthew's voice was firm and his expression was determined. The fact that there was also a definite tent in the front of the towel, gave a good enough indication on its own of what the kid wanted.

"Okay then," I tried to crack what I hoped was an encouraging smile, before returning my attention away from his flushed cheeks to that of the white cloth currently prohibiting my full exploration of his body.

I found myself swallowing, suddenly feeling a little nervous now too for some reason. Most likely due to my still niggling doubts; mainly revolving around our daunting age difference, how fragile Matthew still was in my eyes and then of course the thought of his introduction into 'sexual relations' in the first place and how well that had all gone...

I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want him to be left crying and hating himself all over again.

"D-Dom," his voice whined, thick with vulnerability, "please get on with it, the anticipation is killing me."

A small smile found itself on my face, at the fact that, although his voice was naked and uncertain, he didn't stutter. So, feeling my heartbeat picking up a bit, I followed through, carefully undoing where the towel was tucked in and then spreading it open to leave him completely bare to me.

As the cool air was allowed to now brush against his exposed and most sensitive skin, it was small wonder his newly-revealed dick twitched, as I was now able to properly grace my eyes with its sight.

"Matthew." His name came out sounding foreign to my ears, as it slipped past my lips in a groan.

As I'd rightly sussed through my previous blind and brief contact, the kid was most certainly on the larger side of the scale. Even despite his slight stature, it still suited him perfectly and I guess I should hardly find it surprising that I felt moisture gather at the back of my mouth.

Flushed and pinkened, it contrasted perfectly against his milky-white skin, making it stand out. Making it call out to me. To my twitching fingers and dampening mouth.

"Gorgeous."

Gorgeous, that's what he was, from head to foot; electric blue hair to (admittedly) freakishly long feet and most definitely everything in between. I was stunned to find myself actually thinking this, to the point I barely even registered the fact that I'd voiced it even.

And to think where we'd started; me never wanting to see his 'ugly' face again, yet now his quirky little habits and being had fully ingrained into part of my life. I couldn't even fathom anymore how I'd ever seen him as ugly. Sure he was rather skinny and a bit gawky still, but that would go with age. He was still at that stage where he was just beginning to come into his own.

"Matt, you have a bloody gorgeous cock," I admired, but also wanted to get a response from him, having noticed that after the initial hitch of his breath when I'd first laid him open to me, he'd yet to make another sound.

"Ah, th-thanks?"

At his uncertain and undeniably cute reply, I managed to tear my eyes away from the captivating sight of his dick, to see that he was blushing so hard, even his neck and chest had become flushed.

"If you keep blushing like that, you'll lose your hard-on; and that's something I doubt either of us want right now," I teased, making him groan embarrassedly.

Satisfied that I'd lifted the heavy atmosphere somewhat, I returned my attention back south. The action brought me to notice something which had slipped past me at first, my attention having been so squarely focused.

Not sure if I should mention it, I instead let my fingers brush lightly along his sparse happy trail before following the edges of his so obviously trimmed pubes. Sweet. A brief glance upwards confirmed he appeared to be dying of embarrassment.

"J-just wanted to look g-good for y-you. I-I think it also m-makes me look b-bigger," he tried to explain, absolutely luminous he was so pink by now.

"You're so cute," I couldn't help but giggle, but stopped immediately when I saw the way his face fell. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with that," I defended, crawling up a bit so that I could give him a tender kiss to prove my point.

Relief – and yet more tightening in my boxers – washed over me when he kissed me back, still as eager as ever. When our lips parted, I drew back enough to rest my forehead against his, our eyes meeting and making me feel as though those deep cerulean pools could swallow me whole.

Managing to tear my eyes away, I moved back down his body, positioned now between his parted thighs. As I let my hands slide down the impossibly smooth skin of said thighs, registering the thin, downy dark hair, I couldn’t help but be momentarily distracted by their creamy softness. The temptation too great, I couldn’t resist gently stroking the thin skin of an inner thigh, but halted when I caught the way his swollen cock twitched at the teasingly close caressing; seemingly pleading for my attention.

"Matty, can I touch you?" I asked then, trying to hold back a smirk, as I moved my hands to now instead gently grip either slim upper thigh.

“P-please,” he nodded, as he continued to stare down the length of his body at me.

So, swallowing, I reached out my left index finger at first to touch the heated flesh of his cock, gently running the pad of my finger along one of the raised veins on his shaft, his body shuddering at the contact.

Pleased by his reaction and the way his wide-eyed stare was solely fixed on me, I moved to circle my hand around the base of him. His weight in my hand felt amazing, sure I hadn't had any in quite a while, but that was beside the point. There was just something about being in that position, the act so very personal. The heat off him and the girth I held sent a tug straight to my lower abdomen, my own cock most certainly throbbing, as his did just that in my grip.

When I then squeezed and gave him a lazy tug, his hips jolted forward, before he immediately broke forth with embarrassed apologies.

"Relax, Matt. It's fine, there's absolutely nothing to be sorry about," I smiled reassuringly.

"S-so embarrassing though," he cringed.

"Hey, it's not. You're still new to this kinda thing; this is normal," I explained, tugging him a bit more, the way his eyes began to glaze a bit and his slackened jaw in response all the indication I needed that he'd calmed the farm somewhat.

Not wanting to hurt him with the negative friction of my dry hand, I was tempted to spit in my palm, but then wasn't so sure if that would go over too well. It was hardly romantic either after all. I did want this to be special for him. I then briefly considered reaching for the nearby lube, but when I looked back up into those big blue eyes which were still so focused on me, I was struck with another approach, one which would make the addition of lube rather a bit unwelcome.

So, hoping that the kid would actually like it - though I can't say I've ever met a bloke who doesn't - I ducked down and teasingly ran my tongue briefly around the ridge of his cockhead. I was hardly surprised then, when I heard him suck in a very audible breath. When I then quickly glanced back up to his face, it was to find impossibly wide, azure ringed pupils looking back at me, full of lusty arousal.

"How was that? Want me to go down on you proper?" I offered, unable to hold back the smug grin pulling at my lips. The fact that this was all still so new to him had suddenly hit me properly, but unlike that usual guilt I felt, this time I felt an amazing sense of excitement and privilege. It felt incredible to be able to be sharing all these things with someone who was still so inexperienced and new to it. In fact, I'd be lying if I said that wasn't turning me on rather a lot.

"S-seriously?" he asked in apparent shock, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Y-you really want to?"

"Um, duh, Matt. Wouldn't have offered if I didn't, now would I?" I insisted, squeezing the base of his dick a bit with emphasis. "So, may I?"

In reply he just nodded enthusiastically, his dick twitching excitedly in my grip. Teenagers; poor things really are literally just riddled with hormones, I thought with a smirk as I then ducked back down and opened my mouth.

As I then proceeded to take him in to my mouth, I decided to take things slowly, choosing to stop at just the head of his cock, which I began to suck on teasingly, while swirling my tongue around the tip. I'm rather pleased to say this earned me a couple gaspy moans, as well as the somewhat bitter tang of his precome, as I then moved my hands to secure his wriggling hips.

Satisfied I had him still enough, I then took more of him in, the lovely hot weight of him against my tongue a thrill I couldn't deny. A quick flit of my eyes revealed that his fingers were desperately scrunched up in the sheets beside himself, but that his eyes were still trained on me, fixed on the sight of my mouth over him.

As I took more of him in, running my tongue hard up along the taut flesh in my mouth, feeling out every ridge and bump that was unique to him, trying to find a sweet spot on a sensitive body that I’d already discovered had quite a few, I kept my eyes angled upwards to watch his face. He was biting down on his bottom lip, a nervous response I’d seen him use countless times, yet this time it was different and nowhere near nervous. His eyelids had begun to droop a bit with pleasure, his pupils still impossibly wide, as his skew teeth sunk into the swell of his lip, in the hope, I suspected, of muffling the little moans and whines he was making.

His thighs were beginning to tremble a bit either side of me, as the throbbing heat of his heavy cock hit the back of my throat, while I began to bob my head more, sure to hollow my cheeks and maintain a good, wet pressure around him. I could tell he was close, his muffled moans increasing, his knuckles having turned white on their hold of the bed sheets and the taste of his precome hitting the back of my mouth more regularly.

When I then used my free hand – my left still gripping the base of him and intermittently squeezing and working him along with my mouth – to move lower and cup the silky skin of his tightening balls, I think we were both taken by surprise as he suddenly and unexpectedly hit his climax, thick, hot spurts shooting down my throat as he cried out and I tried not to choke.

Not really given much option, as his dick was practically halfway down my throat at this point, I just had to try swallowing it all without choking. When he was finished, his whole body seemed to go limp around me as his cock began to soften, so I took this as my sign to pull off, unable to prevent coughing a bit in my fist as I sat up and let go of him, airway no longer restricted.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pleasantly surprised to find that despite the suddenness of what had just happened, I rather liked the creamy saltiness of him as I ran my tongue around my mouth. Making someone else come was always a rather empowering feeling, but this time it admittedly felt even better than the previous two times, even if I’d been caught somewhat off guard this time round.

Looking down at the kid as he lay there, eyes closed and mouth hanging open, I couldn’t resist leaning down to brush a kiss to the corner of his mouth, unsure if he’d want me to properly kiss him considering my mouth was now tainted with his taste.

In response his eyes opened, before quickly closing and then opening slowly again to look back at me apologetically.

“Oh G-God, I’m s-sorry,” he aplogised, skin flushed and chest heaving a bit, he looked absolutely mortified though, as he tried to pull the energy together to sit up a bit too.

“’S’okay,” I shrugged, feeling my own cheeks heat, I felt embarrassed myself for having been taken by surprise like that. I should’ve remembered that he was still young and not as practiced with holding back.

“I-I should-should’ve warned y-you, I just… it just… k-kinda hit me suddenly,” he explained sheepishly, bringing his legs up a bit to cover himself. “S-sorry for, you kn-know, making you ha-have to s-swallow.” He was bright pink now, it was even distinguishable as a blush and not just from being flushed from having just come.

“Matt, it’s okay. I kinda feel silly now myself. There’s nothing to worry about though, I didn’t mind swallowing,” I tried to reassure him with a shrug. I’d wanted him to enjoy himself, not feel all awkward and embarrassed after the fact like he clearly did now.

“Ugh, I t-totally stuffed it all up,” he muttered as his head dropped in shame.

“Aww, Matt, c’mon, you did not. Did you enjoy it?” I moved to grip his chin and make him look back up at me. He nodded shyly, still embarrassed.

“It felt… it felt amazing,” he admitted, azure eyes looking deeply into my own eyes and expression wistful. “Y-you’re so amazing, Dom. Thank you. I can’t even begin to say it enough, but thank you.”

“C’mon now, let’s not get too serious now,” I suggested and made to kiss him before stopping just before his lips and pulling back, having remembered the current state of my mouth again.

He’d clearly begun to lean forward too though and so I was met with confusion. “Why’d you stop?”

“Um, I, uh, thought you wouldn’t wanna kiss me after, you know,” I tried to explain, suddenly feeling silly again as I now properly took in the fact he was pouting disappointedly.

“I don’t care. S’not like I haven’t tasted my spunk before…” At my raised eyebrows he flushed once more. “I was curious.”

I just shook my head in wonder and grinned back at him, “Full of surprises, you are,” before beckoning him to come closer for a kiss.

Doing so, rosey cheeks and all, he then squeaked when I suddenly pulled him onto my lap and kissed him deeply, invading his all too willing mouth with my tongue, making sure he could taste himself on me, my hands clutching his waist and pulling our bare torsos closely together.


	19. Chapter 19

In our heated kissing we became a tangle of limbs, fingers buried in hair and caressing sensitive skin, tongues lapping and rolling against one another, moans traded for whimpers as we lost ourselves in each other.

His bare skin, so incredibly silky and soft, felt amazing against my own and I just wanted more as the kid had found himself atop me, I wanted to be rid of my boxers, so that our skin could touch properly, uninterrupted. I found myself letting go of my hold on him, in an attempt to push my boxers down, which prompted him to finally pull out of this kiss.

"L-let me?" he panted a bit, pupils wide in his bright blue eyes as they looked at me pleadingly, his usually sharp little lips all pink and kiss-swollen.

How could I deny him anything?

"'Course," I nodded back at him, my own breath a bit short. "J-just don't get off me. Love the weight of you on me," I was quick to add, feeling a bit sheepish at my admission, but his face then just beamed back at me, igniting a warmth within me.

Instead of words, he just leaned forward to kiss me again, before getting up a bit so he could move to turn and sit on my stomach, giving me the view of his back. My hands automatically moved to hold either side of his waist.

My vision now restricted to the sight of said back, I allowed my eyes to soak up every detail. I took in it all, from the flawless expanse of alabaster skin to his sharp shoulder blades and the vertebrae of his spine sticking out beneath it in a line curved due to his bent form as he began to shift my boxers down, encouraging me to lift my hips to help the movement.

I could then hear the slight change in his breathing when I felt my boxers slide down past my thighs, before I helped kick them aside, unable to see what he could due to his body blocking my sight line. I just hoped he liked what he saw.

"You okay there, Matt?" I asked, grateful that the nervousness I suddenly felt didn't register in my voice, as I tried to focus on caressing his sides with hands. God he was skinny.

"Yeah. More than. Fuck, Dom. How're you so goddamn perfect?" his voice broke a bit as he said it.

I couldn't help but chuckle in disbelief, shaking my head where it rested against our pillows. Part of me regretted not being able to look at the expression on his face, but I also figured it was probably better for him not to feel like he was under my eyes' scrutiny.

"You can touch me, you know?" I prompted after he still hadn't moved to do so. "In fact, I'd like it if you did," I added in a way I hoped was encouraging.

Due to the fact I couldn't see what he was doing, I was slightly taken by surprise then when he suddenly did so immediately, with the most cautious and gentle of touches. I felt my cock twitch under his novice touch, as I let out a deep breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding.

He giggled nervously in response then too, which brought a smile to my face, as I crunched up a bit to quickly place a peck to his warm back, before laying down again.

"Go ahead, Matty," I hummed reassuringly, eyes tracing the expanse of his skinny back once more, lighting on the two adorable dimples at the base of his spine. The sight prompted me to shift my hands lower, so that my thumbs could move to trace around the two little circles.

He moved a bit higher up my torso, before I could then feel the slight tremor in his hand as he moved to grip me at last, switching his hold up a bit till he found a comfortable one. I had to bite down on my bottom lip at the incredible sensation, a delicious twist registering in my lower stomach in response. Oh God, despite his awkward movement, it still felt amazing when he squeezed a little tighter and moved his fist a bit.

I felt my eyes going lazy with lust and desire at the unbelievable sensation, as they then dragged over his form; down from the messy tufts of shocking blue hair, down the beautiful, pale skin of his back and rested on where his pert, little bum had become more visible as he bent forward even more. Oh God, he had a nice little arse. I couldn't resist craning my neck a bit to sneak a cheeky kiss to just above the cute cleft of it, when I suddenly felt a wet swipe move over the tip of my dick.

I couldn't hold back the responsive shudder that ran through my body at the completely unexpected action, nor the small moan which escaped my lips. My whole body felt aflame with desire and temptation; I wanted this boy so badly. If I'd ever doubted it before, it was definitely now put to rest.

"Shit, Matthew, did you just–"

"Lick you? Yeah, s-sorry, I couldn't resist," he admitted, turning a bit in his position to look over his shoulder at me, that trademark blush of his at work. "And d-did you kiss my bum?"

"Yeah, I did," I nodded, unable not to grin back at him. "Ugh, just come back here and let me kiss you."

"B-but mustn't I suck you off f-first?" he asked hesitantly.

"Matt, you don't _have_ to do anything. This isn't a tit-for-tat kinda deal either – you don't have to feel obliged to do anything just 'cause I did it to you," I tried to explain to him, moving so that he was forced to shift off me.

"Oh. But I kinda want to now," he blushed fiercely, sitting now beside me with his legs crossed, blue hair sticking up all over the place and long fingers fiddling with the silver loop of the piercing through his left earlobe.

_Damn, but he was cute..._

"Oh, um, well, uh, how about another time? I just thought you wanted to... I don't know." Now it was my turn to blush as I awkwardly nudged my head in the direction of the condoms and lube he'd bought. "If you've changed your mind though, that's cool too," I was also quick to add as I saw his eyes go larger as he was suddenly reminded of his original intentions.

"Oh... yeah," he nodded, before moving to get the supplies. "I can't believe I nearly forgot! I got kinda distracted..." he blushingly admitted, putting them now down in between us, as I sat up. "I hope what I got's okay?" he then asked uncertainly, looking up at me as he bit that bottom lip of his anxiously.

"Ah-huh, yeah, s'all good," I nodded, suddenly all nervous again. "So, uh, you're sure about this right?"

"Yes, Dom. I keep trying to tell you so," he nodded, before moving to strip one of the condoms off the roll. I couldn't help notice that his hands were still trembling.

"Just don't feel pressured, okay," I insisted, reaching out to cover his shaky hands with my more solid ones.

"I don't. This is what I want," he said firmly, turning his hands round to hand over the condom.

"Okay then," I smiled back at him, accepting the condom as he then moved to put the rest back on the bedside table. I'd be lying if I said my eyes didn't then linger on the sight of his snow-white bum as he leaned over. "So, uh, how do you, you know, want to do this?"

I wanted things to go exactly as he wanted. I wanted this to be perfect. I owed it to him. Matthew deserved to have all the past wrongs made right.

"Um, c-could I face you?" he asked uncertainly, now sitting in front of me again, but staring down at his hands which were folded in his lap.

"Of course," I tried to reassure him, reaching over to capture his chin and lift it up so he'd look at me. He just smiled back shyly before, satisfied, I leaned in and brought our lips together in a gentle kiss.

As we kissed, I shifted the kid so that he was beneath me, his body moving as pliantly as ever. His bare skin, now completely naked against my own, without a thing in between, felt incredible and I found myself using the grip I had around his waist to pull us as close together as possible. Naturally I couldn't help the shudder which then ran through me as our dicks made contact for the first time, Matthew's body reacted similarly as a small whimper left from him into my mouth.

I then pulled out a bit to look down at him, "Is this sorta thing okay? You know, plain ol' missionary?" I just had to be sure after all.

"P-perfect," he nodded, eyes drifting to look between us, to catch a glimpse no doubt of the sight of our dicks which were trapped side by side.

"Cool," I smiled, making him then quickly look back up at me with rosy cheeks and a bashful smile.

I then moved to get back into a seated position, between the kid's legs which he'd spread for me, before reaching for the lube. As I then proceeded to squeeze some out and coat my left hand's first three fingers, I could feel his eyes watching me intently, so I tried to be quick about it all.

"Um, should I bend my legs a bit?" he asked, shifting a bit.

"Yeah, sure," I grinned, putting the lube down beside me and then finding myself met with his completely open body, just waiting for me. "Okay, just tell me if I hurt you. No hesitations, okay?"

He just nodded, eyes fixed on the sight of my slicked up fingers. So, not wanting to delay things anymore, and somewhat in fear of the fact that my erection was really beginning to hurt, I bent low to place a tender little kiss to the inside of one stark white, skinny thigh, while I pushed forward to circle his little hole with my slicked up index finger, before finally, slowly and carefully, easing the digit into the unbelievably tight vice of his body. His muscles instantly clamped down on me hard as he whimpered a little.

"Shit, Matt, are you okay? Did I hurt you?" his body had suddenly tensed up and I was genuinely concerned that despite having been as gentle as possible, I may have still hurt him.

"Y-yes, I'm f-fine. You didn't h-hurt me," he nodded, his breathing suddenly more laboured as I then tried to push my finger in further and wiggle it about a tiny bit.

"Try relax a bit then, Matty. Don't wanna hurt you," I suggested, leaning forward to kiss the lily-white skin of his inner thigh again, my right hand moving to clutch his sharp hipbone, thumb attempting to rub what I hoped was soothing circles.

"S-sorry, sorry," he apologised needlessly, but I definitely felt him unclench a bit more, allowing me to move my finger a bit more within him.

"It's okay, Matty," I reassured him, curling my finger a bit which I was pleased to find made him gasp a little and his previously scrunched up features relax. "Do you think I can add the second finger?"

"Y-yeah," he nodded, his hands already moving to fist in the bedsheets in preparation.

"You sure I'm not hurting you?" I felt I needed to ask. He really was such a slender little thing and I couldn't help still viewing him as fragile in some aspects, no matter how hard I tried not to. I was just eternally terrified of hurting him.

"Dom," he whined, clearly not appreciating my repeated concerns. "I'm fine, just please add it already."

So I did, earning me another small whimper, and making the already tight channel of his arse even tighter.

_Damn, and to think the first time I'd just gone straight in... Shit, I really must've hurt him, I'd just been so angry... So stupid._

The thought made my stomach clench with regret and suddenly relief for my aching cock was the last thing on my mind. I had to do a good job of this. I just... I just couldn't hurt him again.

"You okay still?" I asked carefully, having then begun to start scissoring my fingers and stretching him more efficiently.

"Y-yeah, much better even," he panted a bit, prompting me to look away from where my fingers where moving in and out of him, to back up at his face. He was flushed lightly and his face had begun to go slack, his heavy eyelids fluttering a bit over his pupil-heavy eyes.

Pleasure, I could see it written all over his face and it made me grin back happily at him, encouraging a shy one in return from him.

Pleased, I then set about trying to locate his prostate, I wanted – needed – to hear his pleasure too. I wanted him to lose himself to the sensation, make him perfectly prepared and ready for me. Thankfully it didn't take too long to do so.

Stretching my middled finger I sought out the little button of pleasure and knew I'd hit my target the moment his body shuddered and he let out a needy little whine for me to find it again and do more than the teasing brush. So, grinning, I made sure to target his spot better, my addiction to the little noises he made already well established and wanting more. I wasn't disappointed, every time I hit my target I was rewarded with little whines and moans, his body clamping down on me and pulling against my fingers; teasing my already over eager dick.

" _Fuck,_ Dom. Oh, _fuck_ ," he moaned, his mouth hanging open wantonly as his eyes were fixed to the sight of my fingers moving in and out of him. " _Shit_ , I-I didn't kn-know finger-fingering could feel so _good_."

"Yeah?" I grinned proudly, taking in his flushed skin and pleasure-contorted features, my eyes then naturally drifted to the sight of his dick, which was thick and leaking already. Feeling sneaky, I couldn't resist then moving up a bit to lap the precome beading at the head of his flushed cock, just as I slipped my third and final finger into him.

The resulting deep moan which left him as his eyes blew wide with surprise, made the already tingling burn in the pit of my stomach roar, as I moved to stretch him that last little bit more open for me. When I was then satisfied that he'd been thoroughly prepped and a bit concerned that he'd come if I kept at it a second longer, I withdrew my fingers with a satisfying _squelch_.

The poor kid whined when I did so, his chest rising with his already panted breaths. Damn, but he was a sight to behold, spread out on the bed there before me, electric-blue hair clumping with sweat, face and chest flushed an attractive pink and little dark nipples straining they were so hard, while his slender legs were spread wide for me, cock standing proud and throbbing and stretched entrance just waiting for me.

"Jesus, Matt. You should see yourself right now," I commented, as I tore open the condom wrapper and began to slide the latex over my literally rock-hard and aching cock.

"T-too busy looking at y-you," he said, big blue eyes fixed on my actions, making me shake my head as I then grabbed the lube again. "Fuck, you're hot, Dom." He practically moaned my name.

"You're gorgeous, Matt," was all I said, unable to hold back a bit of a moan myself as I slicked my cock up thoroughly with lube. I then moved to push his legs up against chest, surprised and pleased that he seemed to be perfectly flexible.

"'M not, but th-thanks," he said bashfully, before shuddering a bit as I squirted some lube over his entrance.

"Sorry 'bout that. Just wanna be extra thorough," I explained, dumping the lube off to the side then. "How flexible are you?" I then asked, my mind considering another variation of our chosen position.

"Um, I'm f-fairly flexible? Wh-why?" he asked, wonky teeth subconsciously nibbling on the cushion of his bottom lip.

"Think you could get your legs over my shoulders?" I asked, still holding his folded legs up against his torso.

"Ah, yeah," he nodded, apprehension suddenly crossing his features, as I let go of my hold and he moved to swing his legs over my shoulders, prompting me to hold his thighs against me for support.

"Perfect," I grinned broadly at him, before letting go of his thigh with my left hand to instead line my latex-clad cock up with his hole. "Ready?"

"Yeah," he breathed, one of his hands then suddenly coming up to clutch my right one which still held his thigh, just as I moved to finally push forward.

I kept my eyes fixed on him as I slowly eased into the unbelievably tight heat of him, his muscles pushing down and pulling on my cock, had me groaning in relief. I watched as he muffled his moan by biting down on his lip, the colour draining from it and his hand squeezed mine tightly, as I sunk myself fully into him.

"Okay?" I asked, holding still so he could adjust to me, his body now in the shape of a 'V' as I'd bent him in half in our position, his legs either side of his face.

"Y-yeah," he panted, mouth hanging a bit open, prompting me to lean forward that extra bit so that I could kiss him.

Jeez, but the kid was flexible, he barely grunted as I pushed forward to kiss him, effectively pressing his legs against him, he just stretched up to meet my lips. The tender peck quickly escalated into some messy snogging, as I then also began to gently rock my hips. I just used the kiss to swallow his moans and whimpers in response to me beginning to find a rhythm with which to fuck with.

Our hands still joined, Matt having even gone so far as to interlace our fingers, I moved them to press into the mattress beside us, while my left hand moved to circle around his cock in a tight grip. I needed to hold him off a bit, he'd already been so close when I'd been fingering him; I didn't want this to end too quickly. His hips bucked into me in response to my sudden hold, which caused my cock to slide in at a different angle and inadvertently nail his prostate, which in turn made him cry out loudly.

"Oh, God, that's it. Scream for me, Matty. Fuck, love it. You feel unbelievable. Gonna make you feel so good."

"I do. I d-do. Feels so _good_. L-love it. So full. So good. Oh _fuuuck_."

Encouraged, I made to repeat the action, loving the noises he made and wanting to hear him cry out again. He didn't disappoint, he cried out loudly every time I hit his prostate, while his muscles clamped down so deliciously tightly around me that it was a struggle to keep my eyes from rolling back as I groaned.

"Y-you feel so good. _Fuck_ , Dom. Fuck, fuck fuck... F-feel so full. So perfect. So– oh fuck!"

"Yeah, that's it, Matty. Fuck but you're _tight_ and so _hot_. Love your noises."

His head was thrown back into the pillows, exposing the long, pale column of his neck, the cords of it straining, his Adam's apple standing prominent as he moaned and whined away. Naturally I couldn't help but lean down and lick the salty perspiration on the perfect skin there, in between moving to suck along it too, my mouth first gravitating to the sharp bump of his Adam's apple, relishing in the vibrations from it as he whined and moved his hips upwards to meet my increasingly harder thrusts. I then moved to suck his pulse point, which made him moan, his free hand knotting in my hair.

Wanting him to come even more undone, I then went ahead to suck on his earlobe, my fist having to tighten even more around his throbbing erection. At this point he was just babbling deliriously in between his crying out and moaning.

"N-needa c-come," were the first two words I could make sense of, as he let go of me to instead wrap both arms around my neck and bring my face down to his own so we could kiss, his teeth sinking into my bottom lip for a change, when I then began to finally wank him along to my thrusts.

It was small surprise when he then came soon after, crying out loudly, his voice even breaking in pitch, as I felt his dick pulsing in my hand, painting my fist and our middles with ropes of come. The feel of his body clamping down and fluttering around me madly was glorious, as I continued to now thrust into him, making him cry out and whimper more, even after he'd then come. We kissed hotly, and it didn't take long for me to hit my own climax, the kid whimpering and clamping down on me some more as my eyes finally did get to roll back, as I struggled to not collapse on Matthew.

Panting and still up on cloud nine, I tried to pull out as carefully as possible, but he still flinched a bit, his legs slipping off my shoulders to lay spread out either side of me bonelessly. I pulled the condom off and knotted it, before tossing it onto the floor, too buggered to go throw it away properly. I then collapsed beside Matthew, before pulling him into my arms.

"I-I'm utt-utterly buggered," I announced, burying my nose in his damp blue hair, surrounding myself in his delicious scent, as my left hand ran up and down his clammy, bony back.

He just grunted into the crook of my neck, his left leg and arm thrown over me. His skin, hot and clammy with sweat, felt fabulous against my own and I found myself planting a kiss to the top of his head affectionately.

Fuck, but that had been good. As much as it shocked me, I couldn't recall the last time the sex had been so satisfying. I literally felt on top of the world, my heart still beating quickly in my chest and body a tingle of sensation from having come.

As we then just lay there in comfortable silence for a while, I found myself just listening to the combined steadying of our breathing, and the feel of his heartbeat thudding in his chest against my own, I just felt so completely at ease. In that moment there was nothing else I wanted or needed.

“Thanks, Dom,” the words, muffled against the crook of my neck, were the first to cut through the calm, relative silence and were then followed up by the light feel of soft lips pressed against my neck in a sweet kiss.

“No, thank you, Matt,” I smiled gratefully, pulling away a bit so that I could catch a glimpse of his face and not just the shaggy mess of bright-blue hair before me.

Soft, lazy blue eyes gazed back up at me as his mouth broke out into that adorable, skew smile of his. “So, I wasn’t too bad?” he asked as he shyly moved to try bury his face against my neck again.

“What? Of course not, that was… that was amazing. You’re amazing. I just wish this had rather been your first time instead… I’m sorry, Matthew.” And suddenly, just like that, I was once more filled with guilt.

“Dom? Don’t be. I don’t regret that at all,” he argued, pushing up to prop himself on his forearm. “I’ve seemingly told you this a million times; stop feeling bad about it, Dom. I asked for it, I wanted it and, looking back, I’d still do it the same – of course without the, er, drugs… For that, I’m so sorry, Dom. I had no right to put you through that – especially considering the fact you let me stay with you regardless of what I first did to you – yet you still let me stay and even helped me. You have nothing to apologise for.”

I just smiled sadly at Matthew and shook my head. “That’s besides the point, I still took advantage of you… Also, Matt, I’ve been wondering for a while now…” I began, hesitating a bit, both wanting and not wanting to know the answer to what I was about to ask, as I already had a pretty good idea of what it was and knew I wouldn’t like the answer.

“Yeah?” he asked curiously, his big blue eyes completely open as he stared back at me.

“You know, on _that_ night, you weren’t just drunk, were you?”

It just took the act of him dropping his eyes for me to know my worst suspicious had been confirmed.

“Oh, Matthew…” I just sighed sadly, pulling him against me again.

“I’m sorry, Dom. But I do still remember everything. I promise you. It was what I wanted and like I said, I’d never change what we did. Besides, if anything it probably helped; Lord knows it did with the others…” His voice trailed off softly at the end.

Guilt stricken, I just held him tighter and kissed the side of his face. In response he squeezed me back.

We just lay there in silence then for a while, wrapped up in one another. I let my senses take him in, savouring the feel of him in my arms and that amazing post coital scent of his I was still only learning, that smell that reassured and reminded me that he was indeed the man he claimed to be and not the kid I too often see him as.

The atmosphere had slowly become more lazy and peaceful as we lay there quietly. We’d shifted around a bit, Matthew fitting in perfectly under my arm as I held him close, head of bright-blue hair on my shoulder, his cooling skin tightly pressed against my own. He hummed sweetly when I lazily trailed my fingers along the top of his left arm, which he had spread out to hold me loosely around my torso. His skin was just so soft and silky; I couldn’t get enough of it.

When my eyes finally managed to leave the sight of his long, dark lashes spread flat against the tops of those razor sharp cheekbones, his eyes closed peacefully, and those sharp, pink, little lips which were parted just so, I found them following the idle movement of my fingers ghosting along his beautifully pale skin. This, in turn, led my eyes to light on a little bit of black ink, peaking out from the underside of his arm.

Curious, I moved to grip his arm lightly and turn it so I could get a look, I was fairly certain I’d never seen this particular tattoo before. He always tended to wear long sleeves and then when he’d been shirtless in the past I’d usually been distracted… When I tried to turn his arm, however, his calm demeanour suddenly changed and he tensed up.

“What’s wrong, Matt?” I asked, immediately letting go of him, hating to make him feel uncomfortable.

“Um, uh, Dom… It’s just, my left arm…”

“Yes?” I asked, completely lost on where he was going with this.

“It’s just I… I-I, uh, um, I’ll j-just sh-show you I g-guess…”

Utterly confused and puzzled, I just watched on then as he swallowed before then slowly turning his arm so that I could finally see the underside and the tattoo there.

At first, I only took in the same, alabaster of his fair skin, my eyes immediately zooming in on the delicate black ink work lines on the inside of an equally delicate wrist, working together to form outlines of the continents, creating a small, personal map of his own.

I was just about to comment on the beauty of the simplistic tattoo and question his odd behavior, when my eyes then suddenly lighted on the faded, but still very much present, series of horizontal lines which went halfway up to his elbow, some lighter than others.

“Oh, Matthew…” I breathed, reaching out to barely brush the tip of my finger along a couple of the slightly pink, shiny scars.

“I-it’s ugly, I-I kn-know. I’m s-sorry. I w-was just s-so stupid, I-I wasn’t th-th–“

“Hush, Matt, no. You were in pain and this is how you coped,” I cut him off, not wanting him to tumble into a despair of self-hate. This evening was meant to be special, he was meant to feel safe and cared about, not insecure and full of self-loathing. I was then sure, though, to quickly confirm they were all old scars; relief flooded me when this was proved true. “And you stopped, didn’t you?”

“Well, y-yes,” he nodded, his eyes trained down at where I still held his wrist. “I-I st-stopped when I was s-sixteen.”

“That’s all that matters then and now you’re here and safe and better. I just wish I could’ve been there for you then,” I said, smiling sadly at him, before I brought his arm up to my face so that I could kiss the inside of his wrist.

“It-it’s okay, Dom. Y-you’ve been here for m-me more than anyone else in m-my life. I c-couldn’t be anymore grateful t-to you,” he said and finally his bright-blue eyes flicked up to look at me.

In response, I just leant forward and pressed our lips together in a tender kiss. "How did you manage to stop?"

"Um... this will sound a little silly, but..." he began, but broke off self-consciously.

"But?" I prompted, genuinely interested.

"B-blood freaks me out... M-makes me f-freeze up and all. It f-freaked me out m-more than h-helped me. I'd ju-just feel so h-helpless and get s-so down s-some days though and... I-I h-had to," as he said this his right hand moved to tightly grip his left forearm, prompting me to try release his tight grip.

I was relieved when he let me pull his arm free.

"B-blood... it's wh-why I freaked out big time wh-when you broke my n-nose. Also, when I s-saw I was bleeding that t-time you fucked me in the kitchen, it was wh-what set me off–"

"Wh-what, I made you bleed?! Oh my God, why didn't you tell me? Oh fuck, Matthew. I'm so sorry. Oh God I–" The guilt and regret I felt went beyond words, I hadn't thought it was possible to feel any worse about _that_ night, but there it was; shame coloured my cheeks and made my heart clench.

"Dom, stop. This is why I didn't tell you. I know you didn't mean to. Just like when you broke my nose. It's okay, Dom. Like I said, if I had to relive that night again, I wouldn't change it," he cut me off, his voice firm and sure, before he continued with his explanation. "When that arsehole bashed my face in again, the blood only served to freak me out even more, luckily I only noticed it by the time I'd found that bench, else I don't know if I'd have been able to move and get away."

"Oh God, Matthew..." This time I buried my face in the crook of his neck as I just pulled him super close in my arms. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry about it all, but especially about what I did, because I could've stopped that."

"Dom, please. Just stop. You have nothing to be sorry for. I don't hold it against you, it's not your fault I have some kind of phobia. When you broke my nose, you were angry and I was in the wrong and, for the last time, I wanted you that night I lost my virginity and I don't regret a thing. So can we please just drop it? I know how bad you feel about it all and I hate to see you so torn up. Please, let's just forget about all this now?"

I wanted to argue and put up a fuss that it couldn't just be okay, that he shouldn't just forgive me so easily, to insist that he deserved so much better than me, but when I looked into those big blues, I knew I was powerless to go against his wishes. If he wanted this to be the end of it, no matter how awful I still felt about it, he'd have his way.

"Okay, fine. But, if I ever hurt you again like that, you have to promise you'll tell me," I insisted, pushing back his fringe out of his face.

"I know you won't though. But I'll say so anyway if it will make you feel better: of course, I'll tell you," he assured me before leaning in for a kiss which I could never deny him.

"Your tattoos though... one bleeds when you get them done, how come you don't freak out then? You were pretty damn calm when you got these," I then asked, the question suddenly coming to me as I lightly brushed my fingers over the birds on his lower ribcage.

"I don't know. Maybe it's the knowledge that when the blood's wiped away, something beautiful is left in its place? A necessary evil, for something I want. Besides, I always try to make sure I don't look. Just to be safe," he shrugged at me, a shy smile curving at his lips.

Satisfied with his answer and wanting to bring back the lazy atmosphere from earlier, I moved to hold his wrist again and pointed at the small map. “So, back to this tattoo then, is there a meaning behind it?” I asked him, genuinely curious.

“It-it was my first. Got it here to try help me from cutting again. To remind me. I’ve always wanted to travel and figured I’d start filling in the countries after I’d see them; hence the U.K. is already coloured,” he explained, as I traced the ink lines.

“Wow, that’s a lovely idea… so you’ve never been out of the U.K. then?”

“Nope. I really want to go to Italy and Japan most… maybe France too. Also the States and Australia… have to do New Zealand then too. Oh, and I’d love to see Russia and Cuba and the West Indies–“

“Pretty much everywhere then, yeah?” I teased making him flush slightly as he shrugged shyly.

“Pretty much. It helped; the tattoo…”

“I’m glad then,” I grinned and kissed him again, pleased that the mood had indeed managed to shift back to a lighthearted one. “Which tattoo did you get next then?”

“Um, this one,” he said sitting up a little bit, my arms falling to cradle either side of his skinny waist, as he pointed at the curling script over his right collarbone. “Another reminder, I guess.”

“Chris do them both?”

“Yeah. He’s done all my ink work,” he nodded.

“He’s very good,” I smiled, lifting my hand to run my fingers through his messy hair. “I’m glad you found him and Kelly. They’re good people.”

“Yeah, I’m lucky I found them,” he nodded. “Blessed that I found you.”

Electric blue hair a fluffy mess, cheeks flushed pink and lovely azure eyes wide with honesty, he was everything I’d thought I never wanted and now he was what I was starting to think I’d needed all along. The only trick now would be learning to try forgive myself as easily as he had managed to do.


	20. Chapter 20

  
I awoke slowly, my body snug under warm covers and soft sunlight hitting my closed eyelids. The events of yesterday evening played lazily behind them, curving the corners of my lips as my arms flexed ever so slightly around the warm naked body I held between them.   
  
He was still there. Miles of bare, silky soft skin flush against my own.   
  
Despite my still closed eyes though, I could tell by the difference in his breathing, and the way he twitched ever so slightly in my hold, that the kid was already awake.   
  
"You staring at me?" I mumbled sleepily, eyes slowly fluttering open and voice gruff from having just woken.   
  
Sure enough, propped on his elbow, fluffy blue hair spiking everywhere, I found the kid staring down at me. On cue, though, his cheeks instantly flushed as he looked down bashfully.   
  
"Maybe..." he admitted shyly.   
  
"Naww," I just gushed playfully, quick to pull him on top of me, making him squeak in the process. "So cute."   
  
"Pssht," he just huffed, before giggling as I pulled a face at him and then leaning down to peck my lips sweetly. I absolutely loved the fact that he seemed to be growing ever more confidant with me and just with himself in general.   
  
Naturally I couldn't resist then snagging his rounded little bottom lip between my teeth as he tried to pull away, before kissing him now myself, initiating a different sort of kiss. One which involved me sliding my tongue home into his mouth, as my hands moved down the smooth skin of his back to cup the small fleshy mounds of his bum.   
  
He kissed back enthusiastically, sticking his little butt back into my hands, while also pushing forward into the kiss, his hands holding his weight either side of my head against the pillow. His mouth tasted suspiciously fresh, bursts of minty toothpaste hard not to notice.   
  
With a wet ' _pop_ ' of lips, we eventually pulled apart, the kid grinning back at me like a loon and judging by the ache in my cheeks, my smile matched.   
  
"You brushed your teeth before I woke up, didn't you?" I couldn't resist asking, even though I already knew the answer.   
  
"Maybe..." he mirrored his earlier answer, as he then buried his face against my chest shyly. It didn't take long though, for me to then feel him leaving little kisses along my collarbones and pecs.   
  
Chuckling, I brought up my left hand to run my fingers through his messy blue tufts of hair, the right of course just squeezed his firm little arse cheek, making him giggle in turn between kisses. My chuckles soon turned into a surprised little moan then, though, when I felt the wet heat of his tongue run over one of my stiffening nipples.   
  
"Oi, if you don't stop now, we'll miss breakfast," I warned, abandoning his hair to lift his chin up so he would look at me.   
  
"I can think of worse things than that..." he simply grinned back mischievously.   
  
"Yeah, well, unlike you, I don’t eat like a bird and, after yesterday, am famished,” I said with a playful snap of my teeth at him, which got some more giggles out of him.   
  
“Fine, fine,” he sighed dramatically, moving to sit up on top of me, bringing my eyes to zone in on the hickeys discolouring the otherwise flawless skin of his collarbones and even a few trailing up his throat, all of varying sizes and prominence.   
  
“Oh shit…”   
  
“What?” he asked, slightly alarmed as he took in the way I was staring at his throat, prompting him to bring a hand up to it self-consciously. “What is it?”   
  
“Um, well, I didn’t mean to at the time, but… well, you’re covered in hickeys, Matt.”   
  
“What, seriously?” And suddenly he was scrambling off me and charging to have a look in the bathroom’s mirror, morning wood bobbing away.    
  
Well clearly that was at least no longer an embarrassing problem between us, I thought, realising I’d also then begun palming my own, matching erection, the sight of his cute little arse too much to resist addressing the ache.    
  
When he then didn’t come back after a while, I got up with a good stretch and pop of a couple joints, before lazily padding over to lean my hip into the bathroom’s doorway, arms folded. I couldn’t help the curl to my mouth then, as I found him still staring into the mirror, long, skinny fingers tracing over the love bites, the goofiest of expressions planted on his face.   
  
“Guess you can just zip your jacket up or wear your scarf or something,” I suggested, moving to wrap my arms around him from behind, my chin moving to rest on a pointy little shoulder. “Sorry.”   
  
“I kinda like them though,” he admitted with a blush, our eyes meeting in the mirror.    
  
“Hmm, really?” I hummed against his skin, lightly nuzzling the side of his neck, between fleeting little kisses.   
  
“Y-yeah,” he nodded a bit breathily, leaning back against me, opening his neck more to me, no doubt very aware, as I was, of my hard-on pressing into his lower back.   
  
“Good to know…”    
  
***   
  
“So, what do you want to do today?” I asked Matthew over breakfast, the kid stunning me when he’d gone and helped himself to some bacon and a poached egg, as well as his usual slice of toast. Clearly someone was finally beginning to find his appetite…   
  
After a good, steamy shower, our first together, to relieve stiff muscles, the highlight of which for me was the shared handjob as we’d snogged senseless under the spray above; we’d had to then hurriedly get changed before rushing down for the last call of breakfast. Personally, I couldn’t think of a better way to start our last full day in London.    
  
“Um, well,” he began, not looking up from where he was pushing a piece of bacon through runny egg yolk, “I-I really, uh, wanna go pay Ben a v-visit, seeing as we’re, um, here an all…”   
  
I felt my stomach lurch at the idea, not at all wanting Matt to get any more hurt by his family. “Are you sure that’s the best idea though?” I asked carefully.   
  
“Dom, he’s my brother, I miss him… I can’t help it, b-but I do and… well, it’s not like he has to tell our parents, or like I’m gonna ask to live with him again…”   
  
“I don’t know, Matt...”   
  
“C’mon, Dom, please? I remember his address and all, I won’t go for long and you can just do some touristy stuff on your own for a bit? Have a nice break from me,” he said, finally looking up at me, that bottom lip soon between his teeth.   
  
“Wait, you want to go alone?” I asked, horrified at the thought of him wandering around the big city on his own. Any number of awful things could happen.   
  
“Well, yeah, it’ll probably be for the best? Besides, I kinda just wanna talk to him, you know, just us brothers?” By the look on his sharp little face and in those deep azure eyes, I knew there would be no talking him out of it, no matter how displeased I was with the whole thing. “I promise I’ll stay in contact, I’ll have my phone on me,” he continued, reaching out to squeeze my hand, which was resting on the table.   
  
So, with a sigh and completely powerless against the pull those big blue eyes had on me now a days, I relented. The giant, snaggle toothed smile I received in return made me nearly feel okay with it all. Nearly.   
  
***   
  
After having passed the time with a little window-shopping and a rather long exploration through Hamleys, which found me unable to resist buying a small teddy bear dressed as a Royal Guard for Matthew and a London themed snow globe for Tom, I began to worry that quite a bit of time had gone by and I’d yet to hear from Matthew, the text I’d sent a while ago still unanswered.   
  
When I then tried to call him and he failed to answer, my stress levels really began to rise. And, after past events, I couldn’t help but take this seriously, so decided to act, I wasn’t about to let him down again.   
  
Thankfully I’d insisted he give me his brother’s address, much to his reluctance in thinking I didn’t trust him, before he left, just in case something like this were to happen. Now, hailing a cab, I couldn’t be more thankful that I had thought ahead. I just hoped I was overacting and that perhaps the kid had lost track of time and left his phone maybe in another room. That, of course, was the best case scenario, I wasn’t ready yet to think of an alternative.   
  
Ben Bellamy, it turned out, lived in a rather nice neighbourhood, his front door painted a smart, glossy black, I noted as, taking a deep breath and hoping that everything was okay, I rang his front doorbell.   
  
I didn’t have to wait long before that glossy door was opened to reveal the very person I’d thought I’d fallen in love with all those many months and months ago. Instead of that sunny smile I’d stared at in those photos for hours though, thinking the person I was chatting to was him, the real man in person looked rather stern today.   
  
“Yes, what is it? Can I help you?” he asked, sharp and to the point as he looked down the few inches of height he had on me.   
  
Although taller and broader shouldered than Matthew and despite his sandy coloured hair, I could suddenly see some of their subtle resemblance, the brothers’ eyes sharing that same breathtaking shade of blue, as well as both having defined, high cheekbones.    
  
It felt surreal to be finally meeting the man I’d daydreamed about for so long, but now knew him not to be the person I’d really been talking to, only the cover. All I felt was distaste and anger though, remembering the way he’d refused to take Matthew in after their parents had disowned him.   
  
“Yes, actually you can. I’m looking for Matthew?” I asked, not at all surprised to hear my own tone was clipped and to the point as well, although I kept it polite.   
  
“Matthew?” His eyebrows immediately drew together and his lips made a hard line.   
  
“Yes, you know, your brother? I know he came to see you earlier, only now he’s not answering his phone. Is he still here?” I asked, getting impatient.   
  
“Oh. Well, he’s not here,” he shrugged, before looking about ready to close the door and walk away, just like that was that.   
  
“He isn’t? Well where is he then?” I demanded, not about to let him just dismiss me like that, an awful sense of dread beginning to rise in my gut.   
  
“How the hell should I know?” he asked, clearly getting annoyed now himself.   
  
“Because he came all the way across town to speak to you especially,” I pointed out, frowning now myself. When he then didn’t immediately reply, the silence told me all I needed to know. “You didn’t speak with him, did you? You just turned him away?!” I asked incredulously, although, by the look of him, I knew there was no need to even bother asking.   
  
“Well, no, what good would it have done? I have nothing against him personally, but our parents have already made their stand on things very clear, I can’t just go against their will and, besides, there’s nothing I could say to change their minds; I’d just put myself in a bad light too,” he defended himself, folding his arms.   
  
“You’re unbelievable! I mean, how old are you for God’s sake? He’s your brother! You’re supposed to look after and protect him, regardless of whatever your parents say, shit, you don’t even live with them anymore! He looks up to you, you know, yet this is how you repay him?! You’re a disgrace,” I couldn’t help the way my voice then rose, my blood literally feeling like it was boiling, I was so enraged.    
  
“I’m a disgrace?! Excuse me, I’m not the one living in disgrace and flaunting it in their faces, he should have known what to expect! It’s all probably just another one of his stupid attempts at rebelling to get a rise out of them anyway; he only has himself to blame!” he yelled right back.   
  
“What?! You honestly think that him being gay is a way to get back at your parents, as if he has a choice?! How fucking stupid are you?!” I shouted in absolute disbelief of what I was hearing.   
  
“Sorry, who the fuck are you even to come here – to _my_ house – and attack me with accusations and insults like this?!”   
  
“Me? Who am I?!” I asked, feeling my hands curling into fists at my sides, I was so angry. “I’m the person responsible for actually taking him in and putting a roof over his head! If it wasn’t for me, I don’t even know if he’d still be alive, not that it clearly fucking matters at all to you! You just left him destitute when he needed you most! I have every bloody right to call you out on what a deplorable human being you are!”

He just stared at me for a beat, without replying, the look in his eyes unreadable, before he shook his head.

“You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” he then sneered with disgust.    
  
And that was it, I saw red.    
  
The next thing I knew was that my left hand’s knuckles were aching something terribly and Ben was clutching at his nose as he spat profanities, blood leaking through his fingers from his, no doubt broken, nose.   
  
“You fucking sucker punched me, you motherfucking–”    
  
“I swear to God, if something awful’s happened to him, I’ll come right back here and break the rest of your fucking bones!” I threatened furiously, all the adrenalin rushing through me, giving me a boost of daring and confidence, even though I knew I’d gotten lucky, Ben was a whole lot bigger than me and could probably easily take me.   
  
And then, before he could say anything else (or take his own swing at me), I stormed off down the street, in search of a taxicab. I had to find Matthew, he’d been gone for a long time and now, knowing he hadn’t been with his brother… That sense of dread began twisting in my gut again; any number of awful things could have happened to him.   
  
Luckily it didn’t take too long to wave down a cab, the driver of which then agreed to drive around the area for me so I could look out for Matthew. I just hoped he hadn’t gone too far and that I’d be able to spot him from the street.    
  
As the minutes ticked by, I became all the more panicked; the fact that the little meter in the cab kept rising didn’t help matters either. This was fast turning into the most expensive day of our trip, not to mention the most stressful, but if I could only find the kid, I wouldn’t care the cost. The worst was that I’d known this was a bad idea, right from the start, but for Matthew’s sake I’d taken the chance, hoping, probably like he had too, that for once things would go his way…   
  
I was beginning to wonder if we’d ever even find him, when suddenly I spotted a patch of electric blue in the distance of a small park we’d just begun to pass. My heart skipped at the sight, hope bubbling up, it just had to be him, right?!   
  
“Stop, stop! Sorry, I think that may be him,” I asked the driver, who then pulled up into a parking space as I begged him to wait for me, before tumbling out the cab the second it came to a stop and charging for that flare blue.   
  
My heart was pounding in my chest as my feet thundered and slid over the damp grass beneath them, with me begging to whatever powers may be that it was indeed Matt, until I furiously began thanking them as his profile became clearer, proving my suspicions to be correct.   
  
“Matt!! Matthew!!” I called out to him as I got closer, a definite sense of deja vu taking hold of me, but when he failed to respond, I pushed harder, running faster than I probably had since my school days, until I finally and thankfully reached him. “Matt? Matthew, are you okay?”   
  
This time his slumped form stirred some, from his position leaned back against a tree. My eyes didn’t fail to take in the near empty bottle of cheap vodka beside him.   
  
“Oh fuck, Matthew, what have you done?” I asked, more concerned than angry, as I stooped down beside him to lift his face to look up at me. He did so, with big watery, rid-rimmed eyes, a sight I was worryingly all too familiar with. His eyes though, were also now all glazed over, as he sniffed, tear tracks running down his face.   
  
“Dom’s th't you?” he slurred, the alcohol thick on his breath as he reached out for me pathetically. Of course I just pulled him up into my lap as I sat down, the taximeter be damned.   
  
“Fuck, Matt how could you drink all that? You could kill yourself!” I said, stroking back his blue fringe off his face, the hair already damp. He just ignored my question though.   
  
“H-he said he didn’t wanna-wanna s-see me… th-that it was a mis-stake going there... H-he rej-rejected m-me too, Dom…” And suddenly he was lost to a torrent of fresh tears, burying his face against my chest and sobbing.   
  
“It’s okay, Matt, I’m here. I’ve got you,” I tried to reassure him. It broke my heart to see him like this and made me feel so helpless, all I could do was hold him closer, as I kissed the top of his head.   
  
A crack of thunder nearby made me look up at the sky, which had grown darker and full of clouds since I’d left in search of him, rain now immanent.    
  
“C’mon, Matt, there’s a taxi waiting for us, we should go before the rain starts,” I said, trying to lift him up with me as I began to stand.    
  
It immediately became clear however, just how wobbly he was on his legs, before suddenly he clumsily pushed me aside and dropped back down, onto his hands and knees. At first I was confused, until suddenly his skinny body shook, as he was sick all over the grass.   
  
“Oh, Matthew,” I wavered unsure of what to do, of how to help him, as he continued to retch. Eventually though, he appeared to be done, pushing away to collapse beside his sick, unfocused eyes beginning to shut as his small body heaved for oxygen now. “You done, do you think?” I then asked carefully, to which he grunted weakly.   
  
When the first splat of a raindrop hit my forehead, I knew we couldn’t just wait around any longer, so I just scooped his floppy body up into my arms, after grabbing the bottle, never one to litter, and walked briskly back to the taxi as the rain began to start falling in earnest, his arms weakly looping around my neck to hold on. I found a bin nearby the taxi and tossed the bottle away distastefully, before reaching the taxi, the driver of which had gotten out to help open the backseat door for me.   
  
He took one look at the kid though and hesitated with his grip on the door handle.   
  
“Look, I promise I’ll pay extra if he throws up, I’ll even clean it for you. I’m sorry, we just really need to get back to our hotel, please?” I begged, pleading with him, for something to actually go right today, which had turned into an absolute fuck up, despite its promising beginning.   
  
So the driver, a middle-aged man with a face already showing the lines of someone who laughed often, nodded and opened the door for us.   
  
“Thank you, thank you so much,” I thanked him, stooping to get Matthew onto the backseat, before scooting in beside him, the driver then closing the door behind us, before going to get behind the wheel.   
  
After then telling the driver our hotel and the address, I returned my attention to Matthew, sure to avoid looking at the meter, who was clinging onto me and sniffling.   
  
“I-I’m s-sorry, Dom, you were right. I-I should’ve lis-listened,” Matthew apologised, needlessly, eyes watering again.   
  
“Hey, Matt, it’s okay,” I tried to reassure him, but he shook his head, adamant.   
  
“I-I was an id-idiot, you were right, b-but no, I had to go and…” but he broke off to sniffle pitifully, “H-he rejected me, my own br-brother, j-just like my p-parents, wh-who k-kicked me out cos I l-like other men – s-somthing I-I can’t h-help! I’m all-all alone now. I have no one. N-no one wants m-me.” He was now sobbing again, trying to pull away, but I just held him closer, not caring about the snot and tears streaming down his face.   
  
“Matthew, you have me and Tom and Angie, Chris and Kelly too, as well as their kids. You’re not alone; we’re all here for you. You don’t need Ben, or your parents; they don’t deserve you if they can’t see what an amazing person you are. Good riddance in fact. They’re just a bunch of ignorant, hateful biggots.” My anger from earlier was clearly clawing its way back, my words truly straight from the heart. I meant every word. They’d obviously never appreciated him and by then disowning him so wrongly, turning him onto the streets, well, they proved just how little they deserved to even know him.   
  
Matthew just cried harder, but finally clutched me back properly again, giving into the fact that I wasn’t about to let him go.   
  
“There, it’s okay, Matt. I’m here, okay?” He just nodded and I stroked back his hair and held him tightly.    
  
Eventually his sobbing came to an end, the kid passing out soon after, as I just continued to stroke his hair, whispering comforting words into his ear still, even though I knew he was out. The driver then caught my attention with an awkward cough into his fist.   
  
“Um, we’re here.” And sure enough, a glance out the window showed this to indeed be the case, the rain thankfully not as bad this side of town yet. My attention was then finally drawn back to the meter, my heart stuttering at the shear amount of money I would now have to fork out. When I then budged Matthew out the way a bit so I could reach for my wallet in my jean’s pocket, however, the driver stopped me. “Don’t worry about the fee.”   
  
“Sorry?” I asked, not quite sure if I understood what he was saying.   
  
“I don’t want your money, don’t worry about paying,” he clarified, smiling kindly back at me through the review mirror.   
  
“But, what? I can’t not pay, you’ve practically driven me all around London!” I argued, still in disbelief.   
  
“It’s fine, son, don’t worry about it. You’ve had a rough day and, looking at him,” he nodded in the direction of the kid, “your night’s not gonna be much better.”   
  
“Are you sure about this? I feel bad about not at least tipping you,” I insisted, but he shook his head adamantly.   
  
“It’s okay. My brother… he’s gay; I know how hard it can be. I can’t even begin to imagine what things would have been like if our parents hadn’t been so accepting.”   
  
“I-I… wow, I don’t know what to say?” I stuttered awkwardly, completely blown away by the older man’s kindness.   
  
“You just look after him, okay?”   
  
So I nodded frantically, overcome with gratitude as I thanked him profusely and he then came round to open the door for me, so that I could carry Matthew out.   
  
He was still completely out of it, so I just cradled him in my arms and headed inside for our room, after saying farewell to the remarkably kind driver. Thankfully only the receptionist was in reception and she just gave me a sympathetic smile as I lugged Matthew through, grateful for the elevators.   
  
Once then finally back in our room, I laid the kid down on the bed, which surprisingly brought a grunt from him, the first sign of life for a while, before removing his big jacket from him and then moving to untie the soggy laces of one of his trainers. I’d just managed to pull the beaten up old Converse off, when he suddenly jerked up, before charging for the en suite in a staggered run.    
  
The sounds of him retching and being sick into the toilet quickly followed, prompting me to rush to his side. He was clutching the toilet bowl and retching violently, as I then quickly moved to push his still-damp fringe off his face and out the way.    
  
It still amazed me that I didn’t get bothered by him being sick, when usually people being sick ended up with me joining in. Instead though, I just used my free hand to rub his back reassuringly and waited for him to empty his stomach of all the poison he'd consumed. All I did feel was a whole load of empathy for the poor kid.   
  
“I’m here, Matty. I’m here.”   
  
I hated to see him like this and of course it only reminded me of the last time I’d stood beside him being sick… He’d come so far, only to fall right back, it seemed.   
  
When he’d finally stopped, he fell back on his bum, panting heavily, chest heaving and looked back at me with big, watery eyes, tears streaming down his face.   
  
“I-I’m so s-sorry, Dom,” he said, his voice rough, as his bony hands came up to wipe at his eyes shakily.   
  
When I then saw he’d not made it to the lav exactly on time, having gotten sick on his top in the process, I didn’t think twice about reaching over to help him out of the dirty piece of clothing, before flinging it in the bath to be dealt with later. His body was all clammy with perspiration, skin paler than normal. He looked miserable.   
  
“That’so emb’rr’ssing,  ’ m sorry,  ’ m so-sorry,” he slurred, sobbing away. His words reminded me so much of when he’d gone cold turkey and I’d had to deal with that; it just made me really sad. “’m sorry, d-don’t leave m-me, Dom. St-stay with m-me, I know  ’ m gross and sm-smell of p-puke, but-but I n-need you now.”    
  
“Matt, it’s okay. I’m here and I’m looking after you okay?” I assured him, pulling his shaky body into my arms regardless of his concerns, as he lost himself to his tears. He only stopped when he suddenly had to be sick again.   
  
It _was_ going to be a long night.   
  
***   
  
“How’re you feeling?” I asked Matthew when he finally stirred from where he was nestled under my arm and against my body, the countryside whizzing by outside the window beside me. He’d slept most of the journey.   
  
“Like death warmed over,” he mumbled gruffly, looking up at me with his exhausted, bloodshot eyes, which were also swollen from all the crying. He certainly looked like it too. “My head’s pounding.”   
  
“I’m sorry, when we get home I’ll fix you up with a mug of coffee and some good quality pain meds,” I assured him, before mentally wondering if I should even give him meds due to his drug addiction…   
  
“S’okay, just wanna go straight to bed and sleep it off,” he said, thankfully taking that worry away, as he yawningly burrowed back against me and shut his eyes. “Thanks though, Dom.” His arms tightened around me, before going looser as he fell back asleep.   
  
“You just sleep, Matty,” I hummed, yawning myself, as I ran my hand through his soft, messy blue hair, which was flat for a change, the kid not feeling up to jelling it after a much needed shower this morning.   
  
***   
  
Tom and Angie picked us up from the station, neither commenting on the state of Matthew thankfully, as I’d already filled Tom in briefly earlier this morning and asked he just ignore it for now. It was the last thing the kid felt like discussing.   
  
On the ride back, I caught Tom looking back at us through the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised questioningly, as he took in Matthew and my proximity, my arms wrapped tightly around him as he gazed listlessly out the window.   
  
‘Tell you later,’ I mouthed out to him and he just nodded in response, before thankfully turning his attention back to his driving, as I returned my own to Matthew, stroking his fluffy mess of hair aside as he leaned back into me and shut his eyes.   
  
“Thank you. I’m so sorry about ruining our last day,” he said softly, for only me to hear, while I continued to stroke and slide my fingers through his hair.   
  
In response, I snuck a quick kiss to his temple, his head rested on my shoulder. “It’s alright, I’m just glad you’re okay,” I whispered back, squeezing his hand, only to wince as I was suddenly reminded of my injured knuckles.   
  
“What happened?” he asked, having noticed my flinch, as he moved to look at my already badly bruised and swollen knuckles. “They look really sore.”   
  
“Well let’s just say you’re not the only Bellamy whose nose I’ve now broken. My own injuries were worth it.”   
  
“You didn’t?!” he asked in shock, eyes darting back down to my damaged hand, before going back to look at me and, if I’m not mistaken, those blue depths of his were filled with amazement.    
  
“He said something very offensive and I just saw red,” I explained, embarrassed, Tom and Angie definitely now listening in. “Plus he’s an absolute prick.”   
  
“So he really wasn’t your Prince Charming then ever after all?” Tom chuckled shaking his head. “You’ve always had such a short temper.”   
  
“I haven’t, I’m really laidback, it’s just when someone pisses me off that shit hits the fan,” I defended myself, but my eyes drifted to see what Matthew was doing, as I felt the kid shifting about beside me.   
  
He’d moved to try ‘discreetly’ adjust himself, trying to also cross one leg over the other in that universal technique known to all men who wanted to hide an unwanted boner. When he caught me looking, his face instantly flushed brightly.   
  
“Oh sure, but I believe you’re forgetting the time when…” At this point though I just blocked out whatever story Tom had chosen to reminisce about (naturally always told from the way _he_ ‘remembered’ things being), the kid holding all my attention.   
  
“I don’t know, I guess I think it’s kinda hot how you stood up for me?” he answered my silent question, his words barely a whisper they were so soft.   
  
I couldn’t help but smirk back smugly. “Not feeling so hungover now, are you?”   
  
“Ugh, no, I am, trust me. I still feel like shit. I can’t help that my dick’s got other ideas…” he shrugged still embarrassed. Teenagers.   
  
“Well, when you’re feeling better we can maybe sort something out,” I winked, before turning my energy back to trying to pretend I’d been listening to Tom’s story the whole time. Which was made all the more difficult when I felt Matthew’s hand then squeeze my thigh, before he burrowed back against me and gently stroked over my battered knuckles.   
  


 


	21. Chapter 21

  
"He'd wanted to see Ben really badly and, well, I just gave in. I really wish I hadn't now though. It was dumb of me, I knew something like that would happen. I just hoped I'd be proven wrong, you know?" We'd finally gotten home and, with Matthew immediately going to bed in an attempt to sleep off his hangover, I'd properly filled in Tom and Angie about what had happened with Matthew and Ben.

"It's okay, Dom. It's not your fault, no one's blaming you," Angie was quick to assure me.

"Definitely not. You can't be blamed for what happened. Ben's an utter twat and totally deserved the broken nose. All that matters now is that both you and Matt are back home safely," Tom agreed, leaning over to put his now empty mug of tea down on the coffee table. The couple were sat on the sofa, while I'd pulled up a chair from the kitchenette.

"Yeah, I guess. I still just can't help feeling that all of this could have been avoided though. The kid was doing so well  – I swear, I've never seen him smile so much  – but now it feels like he's just back at square one."

"Aw, Dom, don't be so hard on yourself. Matt'll jump back, he's a tough kid," Angie tried to reassure me, even going so far as to stretch over and give my knee a squeeze.

"Anyway, I do believe an explanation is still owed," Tom then suddenly said, a little curl now clearly tugging at the corner of his lips.

"About?" I couldn't help but ask, even though I knew exactly what he was getting at. I just wasn't really in the mood to explain myself. It would have been easier to do with Matthew and if he wasn't in the state he was. He just seemed so much more vulnerable right now and I was already so concerned that my intentions would look dubious.

"Yes, Tom, what's this about now?"

"Dom and Matt, I suspect, have grown... _closer_ over this trip, or am I wrong?" Tom asked, eyes looking over at me questioningly, his expression otherwise giving nothing away as to how he felt about it all.

"Erm, yeah? We have, I mean, grown, er, closer," I admitted. There was just no use in denying it, though I couldn't help the sheepishness of my tone.

"So it's true, you and the kid are..?" Tom asked, somewhat in disbelief.

"Uh, yeah," I nodded, growing increasingly nervous, Tom's expression still blank, while Angie's eyes grew wide.

"No, shit," Tom now shook his head.

"In my defence, he made the first move," I tried to defend myself, my cheeks feeling hot with my no doubt violent blush.

"Oh I don't doubt that, I'm just chuffed that the kid finally managed to pull you. I guess it was only a matter of time before you gave in to his... charms?" Tom then giggled madly, prompting me to even get up so that I could playfully shove him.

"Naww, I'm so happy for him  – for you both. I've been saying for ages now that you two would really just make such a cute couple; haven't I Tom?" Angie said, a giant smile now spreading across her face, as Tom obligingly nodded.

The relief that rushed over me at their acceptance of the whole thing and that they weren't judging me, instantly helped calm me down from the edge I'd been precariously balancing on since everything had gone tits up yesterday.

"So you don't think it's too weird or inappropriate that we're, um, doing... _stuff._ "

"Whoa, just no details please," Tom laughed, shaking his head. "But otherwise, yeah sure, why not? I've said it before: he's of age and he's certainly been carrying quite the torch for you; so as long as you feel similarly? I just want the two of you to be happy."

"Same here," Angie nodded, shooting me a bright smile. It's good to know that he has someone in his life who can be there for him; especially now."

The mood sufficiently brighter than when we'd first begun talking, I eventually saw the couple out, my eyes and body heavy with weariness; I'd certainly had a rather tiring and sleepless night.

My mind slowly beginning to shut itself down then, I walked like a zombie towards my room, shedding my jumper and beginning to hop out of my boots on the way, only to suddenly be stopped in my tracks upon arrival though, when I found that my bed still lay untouched and made up. I'd fully expected to find Matthew's sleeping form tucked up and waiting for me.

Padding over in my socks, my brief panic (yet not my confusion) was snuffed out as soon as I saw Matthew hadn't disappeared and had just gone to sleep in his own little bed. I found it a bit strange that he hadn't done what I would've thought would be obvious and just go sleep in my bed. Perhaps though, he was too shy and/or didn't want to be too presumptuous. I just hoped that it wasn't that he felt uncomfortable around me now.

So, putting my bets on the first possibilities, I shed my jeans and moved to climb in beside him, not wanting to have to now wake him up and get him to move to my bed when he already looked so snug and cosy. Why not just leave him to it? Well... I didn't want to go to bed alone and, like I said, his bed suddenly just looked so snug and cosy...

My efforts earned me a disgruntled whine, as I tried to slide in as gently as possible, but then had to try wrestle some of the duvet from the kid, who was wrapped up like a little caterpillar in a cocoon. When I was successful in getting a bit of blanket for myself, I ended up getting a whole lot more than I'd bargained for, Matthew moving to drape himself over me as though he were a blanket himself. Well at least that most likely meant my fear that he was feeling uncomfortable with me was unfounded.

The bed, only being a single, wasn't big by any means, but with the way he lay practically on top of me, added in with the fact that we were both rather slender (Matthew certainly _too_ slender still), we still managed to fit fairly comfortably though and it wasn't long before I felt myself drifting to sleep.

***

I began to drift back into consciousness with an odd, somewhat ticklish, sensation playing along the skin of my chest, my eyes eventually opening to find the kid now awake, a long, bony finger swirling through the fairly sparse patch of fine hair on my chest. I'd briefly awoken during my nap to shed my top, Matthew's skinny body producing a furnace-like quality of heat that had over-warmed our little nest.

"Hey there," I smiled lazily, voice rough from sleep. "You having fun?"

"Yup," he blushed, but soldiered on, "I like your chest hair; it's so... fluffy." His high-pitched little giggle then filled my ears, it's quality somewhat embarrassed or self-conscious.

"Erm, thank you?" I couldn't help but giggle back. He just looked so cute, skew teeth on show, sharp cheekbones highlighted and softened by a blush of splotchy pink and his electric blue hair poofing around his head fluffily, giving him a kind of blue halo in the dusk light filtering in through the window.

"Wish I had some too, to be honest," he then admitted, moving to pull the neck of his long sleeve away so that he could dramatically look down his shirt at what I knew to be a perfectly smooth expanse of uninterrupted alabaster skin.

"Aw, I think you're great the way you are. Anyway, your hair's dark and if you had a lot, it would hide your tattoo  – think of _that_ ," I said in a mock-serious tone. "Besides, I hardly have a lot myself," I assured him, pulling him back down to lie beside me.

"Hmm, true... Also, speaking of tattoos, I was thinking of going to pay Chris and Kels a visit and maybe get something else done..."

"Oh, tattoo or piercing?" I asked, curious and not all together so keen on the idea.

"Um, I kinda really want to get another piercing. Don't think I can afford another tattoo anytime soon anyway," he replied with a shrug.

"Oh God, just please spare your poor little ears, yeah?" I said, playfully tugging gently on the ring in his left earlobe. "I don't think they have much space left anyway."

"Oh, then where would you suggest I get pierced?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows rather suggestively, before bursting into some more high-pitched giggles.

"Wow, well you've certainly changed rather a bit. Such a dirty mind," I teased in mock-horror, but could feel my cheeks heating up to match his own blush as we both giggled away.

When the silly laughter eventually died down, we then just lay in a peaceful silence for a while, the side of Matt's face rested against my chest, while his fingers absentmindedly went back to swirling my chest hair and I just wrapped my arms around him tightly.

***

"So, you and Matthew then?" Alex casually said on a particularly slow day of work, the two of us doing a stock take seeing as there were no customers in the store at the moment.

"Um, yeah... it just kinda happened," I shrugged in an attempt to seem nonchalant, but felt my body go rigid and defensive. Were the kid and I really that obvious, even around work now?

I would be lying if I said that Alex's opinion on it wouldn't matter to me, we'd become good friends over the past couple years we'd worked together and I'd hate for him to judge me negatively due to the fact that I was admittedly in some or other kind of relationship with a much younger partner, who also just so happened to live under my roof and whom I'd hired.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) I had to face him alone on this, as Matthew had taken time off to finally go see the Wolstenholmes. This factor, though, I highly suspect is exactly why Alex had suddenly chosen to bring up this topic of conversation.

"Hmm... well to be honest I'm rather chuffed with Matt, the poor bloke's been drooling over you since the very first day," Alex pointed out with a smirk. "I must say though, he's certainly very... _different_ from the blokes I'm used to seeing you with."

"Er, yeah... good different though, right?" I couldn't resist asking Alex.

"Well, you tell me. I'm not involved with... whatever it is that's going on between you two. It's not really any of my business, I just wanted some confirmation from you that I wasn't just imagining things."

That's the thing about Alex, he's one of the most laid-back, nonjudgemental people I know, which is most likely the reason we get on so well.

"Yeah, you're right... And, well, it's early days still." I wasn't exactly ready to define whatever Matthew and I were to each other anymore and I don't think the kid is in any rush to do so either. We're happy to just take it one day at a time and just be. Heck, this was after all, certainly new to both of us.

***

Alex and I had closed up a little earlier than usual on account of the slow business and so, after a quick stop at Tescos, I'd gone home to start on supper for the kid and I, as he'd said he'd be home for dinner.

I'd decided on some home-made burgers, as they were enjoyable and easy to prepare, plus I thought they could potentially cheer the kid up a bit. He's been trying very hard to hide it from me, but I can tell he's still very cutup about his brother's rejection and, though I know he's not a big eater, I can't help but fall back to comfort food for help. A full tummy and cuddles under a blanket on the couch certainly sounded like a marvellous way to end the day to me.

I was busy doing the final touches, slicing some tomatoes, when I heard the front door being unlocked and opened, signifying Matthew's arrival home.

"I'm in the kitchen!" I called out so he'd know where to find me, as I continued to thinly slice the tomato.

Instead of receiving a verbal reply from him, I just heard his footsteps and then suddenly had a pair of wiry, yet deceptively strong, arms wrapped around my waist and felt him nuzzling his forehead between my shoulder blades.

"Hey there," I giggled, putting down the knife before attempting to turn in his hold. "What's up?"

"Missed you," came a muffled reply from him, as he turned his head so I still couldn't look at him properly.

"Yeah? It hasn't even been a full day," I pointed out, unable to hold back a smile, as I continued to try get hold of him and turn around, his odd behaviour making me giggle. "Oi, what're you doing?"

"Nothin'," came another muffled reply, before he finally gave up and turned his face to look up at me, his cheek now rested against my chest in the tangle.

I'm sure my jaw must have literally dropped in response to what I saw.

"Wh-what, d-don't you l-like it?" suddenly his playfully shy tone had immediately turned panicked and vulnerable, insecurity washed all over his features.

"No - I mean, yeah, well, er... it, uh, it was just unexpected. Wasn't that sore though? It looks painful - but good, honest, as long as, er, you're happy with, um, it?" I was talking myself into a hole, afraid to upset him.

His bright cerulean eyes were wide with worry and when he drew back his bottom lip to subconsciously gnaw on it in his usual nervous display, he ended up wincing and jutting the fairly swollen lip out, the new, shiny silver ring through it glinting in the kitchen light. His wince and subsequent shudder of pain, sent a jolt down my own spine in an empathetic response.

"Ouch, are you okay?" I asked, hands now hovering either side of his face.

"Y-yeah, just n-needa get used t-to it," he nodded, but was still looking at me with worried vulnerability. "Y-you don't l-like it, d-do you?"

"Aw, Matt, I do. Honest. I just didn't expect it is all," I tried to reassure him.

"W-well, you said I sh-should 'spare' my ears and well... I've k-kinda wanted a lip ring for a wh-while..."

"This is true," I laughed, brushing the messy tufts of blue either side of his face behind his ears, to reveal the numerous glinting metal piercings in them. "Metal detectors are gonna be a mission, Matt, I'm telling you."

He just giggled back and stuck his tongue out at me, his response instantly warming my heart and I suddenly had to stop myself, mid-way, before I kissed him.

"Damn, now I can't kiss you for a while, can I?" I pouted, earning me a stellar, swollen-lipped pout in return.

"G-guess I didn't think this through p-properly..."

"Hmm... then again though, there are plenty other places for me to kiss in the meantime," I pointed out, suddenly feeling rather more forward than usual as I wiggled my eyebrows, earning me flaming pink cheeks and a dorkily high-pitched laugh in return. "But for now, dinner!"

"Aww, I can t-totally wait longer, what about this, um, k-kissing other places th-then?"

"C'mon, you little bag of hormones, grubs up."

"Oi, I resent that you know! I can't help it; I'm a growing boy," he objected dramatically, the playful atmosphere making me grin widely, before it turned into an admittedly lascivious smirk as I looked  – none too subtly  – down at the straining bulge he was sporting in his tight skinnies.

"So I see."

"Fuck you," he blushed violently, even going so far as to pull his large jumper down over his crotch.

"You're so cute," I winked, moving to take the hamburger patties out of the warming drawer.

"Ugh," he groaned, clearly still feeling mortified.

"Matt, chill, it's no big deal, I've been there before. In fact, I may be having a bit of a trouser situation myself now..."

"Yeah? So dinner can wait?" he asked hopefully, but I just continued to prep our food.

"Food now, Matty, then we'll see..."

"You suck," and then he was back to pouting that fat little lip.

"You're right, I do," I couldn't resist, my grin almost criminal as he groaned in what sounded very much like anguish.

***

"Bloody hell, you've got icicles for toes!" I couldn't help but squeal, as Matthew's feet sought out warmth inside my trouser legs.

"Sowwy," he replied sheepishly, but made no move of removing the icy digits from their wedged position.

"Ugh, here," I grunted, stretching over a bit to wrap his feet up better in the blanket, before laying back down on the couch, the kid then moving to snuggle up on top of me. "Now you're dripping icy water on me," I complained, shifting him to lie in front of me rather than on top, so that his little homemade icepack wouldn't drip on me.

"Sowwy," he replied again, his lip most likely numb by now. It had begun swelling a lot due to his constant fiddling and fidgeting with the damn ring, so I'd suggested he ice it and now I was also keeping an eye on him, to stop any subconscious fidgeting on his part.

"How's the lip doing?" I asked, pulling away to get a look at his face, prompting him to pull away the dishcloth-wrapped-ice icepack from his mouth. I was relieved then to see some of the swelling had definitely gone down. "Looking better," I grinned, leaning in to lightly peck the corner of his mouth.

He just pouted some more. "Wanna kiss you."

"Should've thought about that beforehand, eh?" I teased, before pecking the tip of his nose. In response he just dropped his icepack and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer and turning his head to the side, exposing the side of his neck and, more obviously, ear to me. "Subtle," I couldn't resist giggling, but he just whined impatiently.

So, definitely unable to resist, I moved in, laying a trail of nips and kisses up along his neck, making him shudder, until I reached his earlobe, which I then began to mouth playfully, before just getting to it and sucking on the juicy piece of flesh. It didn't take long for the kid to be reduced to a mewling, panting mess, his arms just wrapping tighter around me and his lower body beginning to shamelessly grind against me, prompting me to join in.

"Oh, fuck, Dom," he managed to groan after a particularly loud and needy moan, my teeth tugging on the ring in his earlobe, before he was suddenly letting go of me to begin undoing his belt and then trousers.

"Matt?" I panted, confused, as he then began shoving down his tight skinnies and boxers in one go.

"T-take me. On the c-couch. Fuck, like now already," he panted right back, rolling onto his stomach and pushing his pert little bum up in the air.

"Oh God," I couldn't help groaning, my hands moving to cup the flawlessly soft mounds of flesh presented to me as if magnetised to them.

Powerless to resist, I found myself then moving to gift each peachy little cheek a kiss, Matthew's breath undeniably hitching in response. Kisses soon turned to playful nips, which made him whine and push his bum back toward me even more. It was while I was doing so, my left hand abandoning its hold to move onto undoing my own trousers, that I became aware of the fact that I didn't have a condom on me.

"Shit," I cursed, pulling away reluctantly, my hand dropping from where it had just managed to undo my zipper.

"What? Dom, don't stop, please" he whined needily, turning enough so that he could look back at me over his shoulder, his shock of blue hair a fluffy mess all around his face and best puppy dog eyes fixed on me.

"I don't have a condom, Matt," I explained with a frustrated sigh. We'd used up the last of them over the past several days. Hey, of course we'd been busy, ours being a new, budding relationship and all.

"So? I trust you," he insisted, those bright blue eyes clearly showing his utter trust in me.

"Yeah, Matt, that's amazing  – really, your trust means the world to me  – but... well, you haven't been tested yet, have you?"

"Um, well – "

"So you see, I know I'm clean, but for all we know, there's a good possibility you, um, aren't; I mean, especially after what happened with you a couple months ago and Lord only knows what those men who you let fuck you could've had and, uh..."

I let my sentence trail off, the look that had manifested in the kid's eyes making me want to slam my head into a wall. It was a painful mix of all manner of things, but it was hurt and shame that stood out most to me. Shit, how could I be so goddamn tactless?

"Fuck you, Dominic. I'm not an idiot, of course I've gotten myself tested since," his voice reflected the angry hurt and shame in his eyes, as he was suddenly trying to pull his trousers back on and get up off the couch at once. He was so focused on trying to glare at me, that it was small wonder he ended up falling over his trousers in the process.

"Here – "

"Don't!" he practically growled, when I tried to help him and instead just staggered back onto his feet and finished yanking his trousers up, before storming off.

"Oh come on, Matt! How was I supposed to know? Come on, I didn't mean to offend you, honest," I called out behind him, as I followed after him, only to then get his bedroom door slammed in my face. "Matt! I admit I could've said it all better, but I was trying to keep things safe between us. I only have your best interests at heart."

"Leave me alone!" he just yelled from inside, before he clearly threw something like a shoe at the door, which made me jump back from the door in surprise. "I wouldn't want you to catch something after all!"

"Matt, don't be like this! I'm sorry." But even as I said it, I knew there was no use; I was fighting a losing battle and, as if to prove it, another object was hurled at the door.

It was strange, but I guess I tended to just forget sometimes that the kid was, well, a kid still. He was still a teenager at 19 and I suppose it shouldn't surprise me this much that he'd rather handle this all childishly as apposed to actually talking things through like an adult with me. It was frustrating and annoying, but the truth was, we did have a rather large age gap and it would be stupid to pretend that it wouldn't show itself in how we handled certain situations.

It was there, I couldn't just pretend like it didn't exist, it had only been a matter of time before it proved to be yet another obstacle.

So, sighing, I decided to just go back to the couch and watch the rest of the movie and give him a chance to cool down and get over his little tantrum. Maybe then I could get through to him and apologise properly. It really had not been my intention to upset and offend him.

How was I supposed to know that he'd gone and gotten tested at some point? I couldn't help but wonder why he'd never thought of telling me about it before, it certainly would've helped me worry a lot less about finding a way of subtly trying to suggest he go and get checked out. Maybe then my whole tactless blunder wouldn't have happened and we wouldn't be in this situation now...

***

"Dom?" I felt a light shake of my shoulder. "Dom?"

"Hmmyeah?" I asked, voice rough and thick, as I blinked in the darkness in an attempt to make out the figure standing before me.

It was small wonder, I suppose, for the shadowy figure to be the kid, his sudden appearance bringing back memories of when he'd woken me up like this in the past. He was wearing his long sleeve tee and boxers, his right arm clutching onto the left as he stood there awkwardly.

"I'm s-sorry," his voice was soft and sheepish in my otherwise quiet bedroom. "I sh-shouldn't have lost it like th-that. I'm sorry."

He'd stayed in his room for the rest of the evening and I'd just eventually resigned myself to sleeping alone in my bed, but clearly he'd finally gotten over his strop.

I wasn't exactly properly awake, but I could still see how miserable and regretful he looked in the dark, so I just grunted something akin to "S'okay", and lifted my duvet cover a bit and made space for him to join me. I'd stopped being frustrated and angry with him a good while ago.

Without another word then, he gratefully, clambered in and I wrapped him up in both my arms and the duvet, spooning him and then rubbing his arm a bit when I felt how chilly he was.

"M'sorry, Dom."

"Shh, s'okay, Matty. I'm sorry too," I assured him and kissed the top of his head, which was wedged beneath my chin. "Just get some sleep, yeah?" It must've been around 2AM and I was pretty sure he'd been awake the whole time.

"Thanks."

"Hmm," I grunted, feeling my eyes already beginning to droop closed again, my bed now feeling infinitely more cosy and warm now that he was in it.   



	22. Chapter 22

  
“Holy fuck! _Ung, fuck, Dom_ ,” Matthew groaned deeply, throwing his head back against the wall I had him pinned to, exposing the lily-white expanse of his long throat to my hungry eyes, fading bruises from my mouth already marking him there.

“Shh, Matt, not too loud,” I managed to warn him, when all I really wanted to do was moan along loudly with him.

I’d been organising some of the new stock in the storeroom, when Matthew had suddenly come up from nowhere and quite literally jumped me. His tongue had been down my throat before I could even ask what he was up to, his legs wrapped tightly around my waist as I struggled to maintain my startled hold of him.

When he’d eventually pulled out of that initial kiss, it was to inform me that Alex was playing games on his phone ‘cause the store was empty and he’d locked the storeroom door behind himself and that if we didn’t fuck right then and there he’d combust. Well we couldn’t have that now, could we?

So now I had him up against the wall, his legs wrapped around my waist as I rutted into him, my trousers around my thighs and hands supporting and holding him in place.

“S-sorry, can’t help it,” he apologised, before breaking off in a whimper, the kid doing his best to keep quiet, his body clenching down on me and legs tightening as I clearly hit his prostate in a particularly well aimed thrust.

“I’ll let it slide,” I grunted, attempting a smirk and then pushed him hard against the wall as I took him to the hilt, which left him panting as his mouth hung open wantonly.

Using the wall to help hold him up, I let go of him with my left hand, only so that I could use it to cup his jaw and pull in to snog him roughly and muffle the whimpered moaning escaping him. He readily and ever so eagerly kissed me back, as was his way, his left hand laced tightly in my hair as he clutched onto me with his right arm wrapped around my neck.

I knew what we were doing was risky and stupid, not to mention irresponsible.

Alex had to be wondering what we were up to – and I’m sure he could easily guess, which was terribly unprofessional on my part, especially as I’m the manager. There was also the fact that more customers than Alex could handle at a time could be waiting around impatiently to be helped; they could easily then report bad management to Denis, the owner of the music store.

That of course would be terrible for me, what with me standing a chance to inherit the place from Denis when he retired next year. It would mean the many years I’d spent working for the man, building his trust and getting him to like me, would be wasted.

I knew all this, I knew the risks and that I was being foolish, but... there was just something about the kid that made my senses fly out the window; the fact that he also has a perfect and unbelievably tight arse doesn’t hurt either though, I’m sure. But it was also just incredibly hard to say no to him; don’t even get me started on those big blue eyes, damn, he certainly knew how to use them on me too, that was for sure.

The thrill of it all was also undeniably exciting and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on. Sometimes, when I was with the kid, I felt like I was a teenager all over again too and I found myself just going along with whatever mad idea he’d come up with; be it a slasher movie marathon, or sex at work.

As the days went by, he seemed to forever be growing in his confidence and forwardness around me; to the point where I shouldn’t really be all too surprised he’d taken it upon himself to coax me into having a quick, dirty fuck at work.

“Oh God, Dom... please... ‘m close, so _close_ ,” he whined, grinding down on me as I rutted harder and faster into his pliable body, his fingers and legs tightening their hold on me all the more.

He wasn’t alone, I could feel myself fast approaching, if not already teetering on, that edge, as words began to turn more into grunts as I lost myself in the movement of it all and in the tight heat of him.

With him crushed up against me, between my body and the wall, I could feel the way his heart hammered in his chest, its beat matching my own thudding muscle. The skin of his thighs was hot against that of where my top had ridden up to expose my waist and I loved it, I only wished I could feel more of his bare skin against my own.

I found my left hand abandoning its hold of his jaw, in favour of pushing up his own top, until his armpits, so that I could feel his hot skin and the way his muscles strained and worked as we fucked, our coupling increasingly frantic and less coordinated.

He whined as my hand went for the predictable path of a nipple, only to then cry out loudly when I did actually manage to squeeze it. The sound was not one of his usual cries of pleasure, which I’d become attuned to, but unmistakably one of pain which instantly made my heart stop and hand shoot back, but not before I’d felt something hard.

“Matt?! What’s wrong?! Are you okay?!” I asked, worried, and immediately froze in my position. His eyes were screwed shut in pain and he was making me panic, I was terrified of hurting him.

“S’okay... s’okay, Dom,” he insisted after a tense beat of silence, reaching out to cup my face in his hands and pull me into a kiss. The feel of his tongue then forcefully moving against my own and dominating my mouth, along with the fact that I was so close to coming, had me quickly forgetting what we’d even stopped for.

I’d reached the point where the thought of coming was solely dominating my thoughts, along with the feel of our bodies moving together.

By the way the kid then began whimpering and moaning pitifully into my mouth, as he madly moved down against my equally frantic movements, I could tell he was equally close to that crucial cusp.

“Needa come,” I grunted when his hands moved to grip my shoulders. He just nodded quickly in response, clearly not trusting his voice as his teeth bit down on the side of his lip without the ring.

Taking this then as my sign, I moved my hand to grip his dick for the first time, which made his eyes visibly widen, before they furrowed as he realised what I was doing when my fist tightened.

“Lemme come first, then I’ll take care of you,” I was quick to assure him then, before kissing him and then letting go as I buried myself deep inside of him, as far as I physically was capable.

Unsurprisingly, neither of us could hold back throaty moans then as I shot hard and hot into him, his body rippling around me as I held his release off, making the kid whine and wriggle in my hold, his legs even spasmed in their hold of me. I just held him tightly and kissed the corner of his mouth when I’d managed to gather myself together and gulp in some much needed air.

“Think you can stand?” I pantingly asked, before he nodded and I helped untangle his legs from around me. I then proceeded to drop down to my knees, only to look up and find that he’d begun wanking himself off. “Oi, Matt.”

“S-sorry,” he panted back, reluctantly letting go, as he looked down at me with heavily lidded eyes.

“S’okay,” I winked, before gripping him myself once more and then moving to get my mouth around him. His hands instantly dropped to clutch and twist at my hair as he groaned rather too loudly, earning him a slap to his bare arse.

I then decided to take as much of him in as I could, relaxing my throat, before slapping his arse again, this time in the hopes that he’d catch my drift. Thankfully, the horny adolescent that he is, it didn’t take much for him to understand and quickly begin fucking my mouth.

By his frantic and uncoordinated thrusting I knew it wouldn’t take long, so I wasn’t too shocked when he suddenly came with a jolt, his creamy, warm release shooting down and coating my throat as I swallowed what he gave. His hands tightly (and no doubt subconsciously) held me firmly in place until he was done and I smacked his bum yet again.

“S-sor-sorry,” he managed, letting go, before collapsing onto his bum, his trousers and boxers only clinging to his left leg still, his right shoe having even come off at some stage in the frenzy, most likely in the process of getting his trousers off. Well, as off as was necessary.

I just wiped my mouth with my hand and grinned back lazily at his utterly buggered state, before removing the spent condom and tying it. Having dropped it to the floor, I then moved to pull my pants back up and sat back in my kneeling position. Job well done.

“Feel better now?” I couldn’t resist asking teasingly, as he panted away.

“D-definitely,” he nodded, before finally cracking his eyes open to look back at me, revealing their beautiful, now calm, cerulean colour.

I let my eyes take him in, as I too caught back my breath and tried to calm down. His bright blue hair was all over the place, with his fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat, his face flushed, while his lips were kiss-swollen and red (especially the bottom one, the ring there still fairly recent). My eyes then dropped down to where his t-shirt was bunched up under his arms, before suddenly freezing on his chest.

I could suddenly just see red; blood was slowly dribbling down from his nipple and it took a moment for me to then see silver too.

“When did you get that now?!” I asked, my voice half exasperated and half shrill from panic due to the blood. I was suddenly reminded of his strange and sudden cry of pain earlier. I’d unknowingly tugged on his left nipple, which had clearly been the most recent victim of his piercing obsession.

Registering my alarm, his eyes quickly shot down to look where mine were still fixed, before immediately shooting back up. “Oh, sh-shit.”

“‘Oh, shit’?! Matthew, what the fuck?! Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded, noticing now with a bit of relief that most of the blood was dry already at least.

“R-relax, Dom, it’s o-okay; I’m okay. It’s only a l-little b-blood anyway,” he tried to reassure me, but wasn’t fooling me with the way his voice was wavering and the fact that his eyes were now avoiding looking at his nipple. He really did freak out when it came to blood. “And I g-got it only two days ago, so it’s st-still new, it’ll settle down given some t-time; like my lip ring.”

“Matt, your lip still swells from even the lightest of snogs.”

“Yeah, w-well, it’s still new too, really...”

I couldn’t help but sigh in exasperation; I didn’t know what to do with him. He’d visited the Wolstenholems two days ago; no surprise that it matched with when he got the latest hole added to his body... It seemed like he got something every time he went there now; the last time it had been another earring, this one in his right earlobe to match the left and of course the time before that had been the lip ring.

I knew he had an addictive personality, but this was beginning to worry me now, I didn’t want it to become yet another thing for me to have to worry about him getting involved with. It was starting to seem like I’d need to start chaperoning him now whenever he visited Chris and Kelly, which was ridiculous; I wasn’t supposed to be his fucking nanny.

“And Kelly’s okay with just punching holes into you?” I couldn’t help but ask; she hadn’t seemed so careless the few times I’d seen her.

“Um, well, she only r-really did the lip ring and that was, uh, after a l-lot of begging,” he admitted.

“Wait, if she only did the lip one, then who did your ear and nipple? Does Chris also do piercings?” I asked, getting highly suspicious.

“Um, n-no. Jeremy d-did them...” he replied reluctantly, eyes avoiding me as he – still sitting – attempted to pull his trousers back on properly.

“Jeremy? Who’s this now?” I asked, trying to ignore how parental my voice was sounding. I wouldn’t be impressed if he’d suddenly started going to another place that was far less moral and would do anything clients wanted if it meant getting money from them.

“Um, well, you know how Kelly’s pregnant again and stuff now?” he asked and I nodded back, reminded of the recently revealed fact that the Wolstenholme brood was due to expand even more soon. “Well Chris hired Jeremy to help out around the shop, so she could start taking it easy and also to give her more time for the kids.”

“Hmm, okay,” I nodded, relieved that Matthew was still sticking with the Wolstenholmes. At least I knew them. This Jeremy bloke though...

“He does both tattooing and piercing; how cool is that?” Matthew then added. Great. Fucking fantastic.

I couldn’t imagine anything worse at that moment; if this guy was so chilled about giving Matthew whatever latest piercing he ‘just had to have’, I can’t imagine he’ll hold back with the tattoo gun either...

Before I could comment or voice my concerns, there was suddenly a knock on the storeroom door, followed by Alex’s voice.

“You two done yet? I left my phone charger in there and my battery’s about to die.”

“Fuck,” I couldn’t help swearing to myself, we clearly hadn’t been fooling him for a second even. Luckily though, his voice sounded rather nonchalant; hopefully he wouldn’t tell Denis... “Um, c-coming!” I then called out to him, as Matt hurriedly pulled his top back down and I stood and went over to open the door after disposing of the condom.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Alex teased with a smirk when I managed to let him in, before his eyes widened when he looked over in Matthew’s direction. “Shit, you’re bleeding, what happened?”

My head instantly whipped round to see that blood was indeed seeping through the light material of Matt’s grey long sleeve. In response, the kid had also looked down again, to where Alex was staring, only for his eyes to widen and skin to turn noticeably paler.

“Matthew, just stop looking at it, before you freak yourself out,” I sighed, before going to fetch the first aid kit, still feeling rather a bit annoyed that he’d failed to tell me about the new piercing or this Jeremy bloke.

“You two get a little too frisky?” Alex clearly couldn’t resist to teasingly ask.

“No, he went and got another piercing, but conveniently failed to mention it to me,” I answered, grabbing the kit off one of the shelves, before heading back over to Matthew, who’d gone rather quiet; the blood seeping into his clothing clearly proving to be just too much for him.

“Oh...” Alex then said, clearly realising I wasn’t in the mood to joke around.

“Here, Matthew, take your tee off, you can just wear your jersey instead,” I instructed him, prompting him to get up shakily and remove the tee, which had clearly just irritated the piercing even more when he’d hastily pulled it down. “He’s got a bit of a blood phobia,” I then replied to Alex’s perplexed expression toward the kid.

“Damn, that’s a bit rough,” Alex cringed, moving to pull out some disinfectant and cotton wool for me; deciding to make himself useful. Guess I really had gone full-blown scary parental mode.

“Thanks,” I said accepting the supplies, before promptly moving to clean up Matthew’s piercing, which made him hiss. “Sorry, but we don’t wanna get this all infected now.”

When I was done, Alex then handed me a sizeable plaster, which I then just put over piercing, nipple and all.

“Next time, just tell me first, please?”

“S-sorry, Dom,” Matthew apologised, looking incredibly sheepish and embarrassed in front of Alex.

“Well, uh, I’m just gonna get my charger then...” the brunet excused himself then, quickly grabbing it before leaving us alone.

“You feeling a little better now?” I asked Matthew, making a concerted effort to soften my voice, after I’d packed up the first aid kit and put it away, while he’d pulled on his trusty, old grey jersey.

“Uh, y-yeah... I’m r-really sorry, Dom,” he replied, apologising again, as he stood there awkwardly in his oversized jumper with the hole by its neckline.

“Oh, Matt,” I sighed, moving to pull him into a hug. “I’m sorry I kinda freaked out on you a bit, I was just worried and annoyed you didn’t tell me.”

“W-wanted it to be a surprise... Th-thought it’d be cool, ‘cause you kn-know how sensitive my ears are and th-then the piercings make them even m-more so... and then I th-thought my nipples are sensitive too; so what if I did the same to one of them...” he explained, voice muffled by my chest as I just pulled him closer.

***

“Dominic!” Kelly’s bright voice greeted me happily as she immediately pulled me into her arms after releasing Matthew, only so that Chris could grab him into one of his monster, bone-crushing hugs, that literally took Matthew off his feet.

“Hey, Kelly,” I greeted in turn, hugging her back, having already shook Chris’ hand.

“It’s so good to see you again,” she smiled warmly and I smiled politely in turn. When I turned back to look at Chris then, it was to see that the kid had walked off to the far corner of the shop where a blond man was busy tattooing someone. Jeremy I presumed.

“We wanted to thank you in person for looking after Matthew in London; after everything that happened with Ben,” Chris agreed, bringing my attention back to the couple.

“Matthew told us all about London and what you did for him,” Kelly added, giving my arm a squeeze.

“I’d especially like to thank you for breaking that arsehole’s nose; tosser deserved it. I'd have done the same. He’s only lucky I wasn’t around too...” Chris then practically growled.

“Um, uh, sure. It wasn’t a big deal, I mean, it was the least I could do; I shouldn’t have let him go and see Ben in the first place. I should have known something like that would happen,” I admitted. Chris could definitely do scary and intimidating well...

“Oi, you can hardly be blamed for the fact that his brother’s a complete and utter twat,” Chris pointed out. “I’m just grateful you were there for him and didn’t give up until you found him...”

“You know he’s really sorry about running off like that, right? Poor Matt, he doesn’t always think before he reacts,” Kelly said, prompting us to look over to where he was now sat on a chair he’d pulled up beside Jeremy to watch him work and was animatedly chatting away with him and his client.

“Yeah, I know... Scared the shit out of me though, I’m not gonna lie,” I admitted. “Kinda makes me question whether or not I can trust him being alone...”

“Which is fair enough, considering everything that’s happened these past several months, I guess. Matt’s definitely not easy, he’s a troubled kid,” Chris said with a sigh. “I’m just glad he has you.”

At that last bit, I turned away from where I’d still been staring at Matthew, to look back at the Wolstenholmes, having heard something in Chris’ voice.

“Sorry?” I asked, suspecting what he meant, but not wanting to get ahead of myself in case I was wrong and it didn’t sit so well with them.

“Like Kels said, he told us all about London; we know the two of you are, um, you know, more than just friends,” Chris clarified, looking a bit awkward.

“It’s sweet, you two make a cute couple and Lord knows a bit of stability is exactly what he needs,” Kelly smiled.

“Um, er...” I mean, how does one even reply to that? I’m around their age and only a minute ago, Chris was referring to Matthew as a ‘kid’ (much like I do myself admittedly) and now they know Matthew and I are ‘more than just friends’.

“Relax, mate, as long as you’re good to him, who are we to judge?” Chris shrugged, clearly understanding my awkward stutter. “You’ve already proved – more than once – to have his best interests at heart anyway.”

“Uh, yeah, well, thanks. I can definitely assure you I only have the best of intentions,” I nodded, still feeling completely awkward and uncomfortable.

Just then though, Chris’ next appointment came in (a thigh piece) and he returned to work, while Kelly excused herself to go check on the little ones upstairs, leaving me to stand alone in the shop, the sound of Jeremy’s needle buzzing loudly, before it suddenly then stopped.

Reminded of him once more, I then made my way over to him and the kid, Jeremy’s client, a young woman, admiring the work he’d done on her arm in a large mirror.

“Oh, Dom, this is Jeremy,” Matthew introduced me to the tall blond, having hopped off his chair as soon as he’d seen me approaching.

“Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Jeremy stood then too, greeting me with bright green eyes and an American accent, reaching his hand out for a handshake after he’d peeled off his glove. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I accepted his handshake, which was rather firm, his rolled jumper sleeve then also made me take note of the beginnings of what I assumed to be a full sleeve of tattoos underneath. Along with what I suspected to be many tattoos, he also had an eyebrow, nose and lip ring, not to mention several ear piercings too, including two gauges. Great, next Matthew’ll want a pair of those too...

“Uh, yeah, though I only recently even found out about you,” I nodded, releasing his hand.

Before he could reply, his client came back from her thorough mirror inspection to happily thank him, before he then had to help wrap up her fresh inkwork.

“ _Dom_ ,” Matthew then whispered, eyebrows furrowed and clearly unimpressed with my response to the Yank, while Jeremy was distracted.

“What?” I whispered back, completely innocently.

He just shook his head disapprovingly though, before Jeremy led his client to the front desk to go and pay. Teenagers.

“You didn’t say he was an American,” I pointed out, as I watched him laughing and chatting away with the young woman. He was slim, but even through his jumper I could tell he was well toned, heck I could definitely tell by looking at his thighs in those tight trousers he was wearing.

“Yeah, so, what difference does it make?” Matthew asked, sitting back down on his chair and crossing one skinny jean clad leg over the other, as he too watched Jeremy.

“Oh, none really, just that I’ve heard a lot about the guy from you the past two days since I found out about him and that was never mentioned,” I said, siting down in the chair Jeremy had used.

“Yeah, well, whatever,” the kid muttered, his cheeks pinkening a bit. You have got to be kidding me.

“Hey, sorry about that, but unless there’s a walk-in, I have the next hour or so free,” Jeremy said, joining us again and just chose to sit atop the leather bench used for the clients.

“So, you’re American?” I asked and had to struggle to hold back a grin when I saw Matthew roll his eyes.

“Oh, yeah. I’m from Cali; San Fran to be more exact,” Jeremy nodded with a smile, completely oblivious.

“Oh, nice, what brings you here to dreary England then?” I asked, even though I didn’t really care. To be perfectly honest, I was more interested in when he’d be leaving...

“Lots of things, but family more so; my gran’s from around here.”

“Huh, you don’t say...”

In the end, as we continued to chat away, Jeremy turned out to be perfectly normal and... nice.

When Kelly called Matthew upstairs a bit later, due to the kids wanting to see him or something, I was left with Jeremy all to myself. It left me with the perfect opportunity to bring up what I’d wanted to since the very first minute I’d laid eyes on him.

“Jeremy...”

“Yeah?”

“Why have you been punching whatever holes into Matthew that he’s come up and asked you for? I mean, I can see you’re clearly no stranger to a needle and some metal yourself, but he’s still young and dumb. At this rate he’s going to have nothing left unpierced.”

“Um, sorry?” he asked, a bit taken aback and clearly not having expected my question.

“Look, you may not have noticed, but Matthew’s got an addictive personality and can’t help himself. You’re just being an enabler to him, which is exactly what he doesn’t need.”

“Whoa, okay... Look, I’ve just given him three... but sure, whatever, I won’t give him anymore,” he said, raising his hands defensively.

“Three? He told me you only did his nipple ad earring...”

“Yeah, them and the lip piercing. Look, Dom, I didn’t know okay and he said Chris and Kels wouldn’t mind either.” My eyebrows furrowed at this, Matthew had lied to me, for really no reason at all even. I couldn’t quite believe it in fact.

“Yeah, whatever, just hold back a bit, yeah? Also don’t start dishing out tattoos either now... You’re sure about the lip ring?”

“Sure, sure, I won’t go near him with a needle again. And ‘course I’m sure about the lip ring, I’m not as irresponsible as you clearly think I am; I know what work I’ve done,” he replied, sounding a little offended now, but I couldn’t be bothered to care; I was pissed off now. I still couldn't believe Matthew had lied to me.

“Oh and one more thing,” I then added, having stood up, someone having just walked into the store. “Matthew and I... well, we’re kind of together, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try anything with him.”

“Excuse me? Whoa, Dom, dude, I don’t swing that way. Trust, I’m not about to try steal your guy. Is that what all of this is about?” he asked, eyebrows literally at his hairline in apparent surprise, as he too got up now. Well, he at least looked genuine...

“No, not completely. Matt does have a problem with addiction to all kinds of things and I think he’s starting to get a little carried away with putting holes in himself now,” I replied, a bit annoyed with him now too. This wasn’t about me feeling like he was trying to steal Matthew, please, it was about him enabling Matthew’s addiction. I’d also just felt the need to add that last bit, what with the way the kid acted around him.

“Oh, okay. Well, I'll, er, be sure to keep an eye on him now, sorry,” he assured me and apologised again. “He's a great kid, I'd hate to be responsible for helping him with any possible self-destructive behaviour; I just want to be a friend to him.”

“Erm, thanks,” I replied, wanting to dislike the man but unable to. Damn, he truly seemed like a genuinely nice bloke...  



	23. Chapter 23

“I can’t believe you did that! What the actual fuck, Dom?! You made me look like an idiot! I don’t need you fathering me; I’m not a little kid!”  
  
After not having spoken to me the entire way back home and me finally asking what was eating him up, Matthew had near exploded at me. Clearly Jeremy had spoken to him before we’d left after having dinner at the Wolstenholmes’.  
  
“Well I’m seriously beginning to wonder about that, Matthew. I feel like I clearly have to keep an eye on you; your self distractive behaviour is getting way out of hand,” I snapped back, but was sure to not resort to shouting like him.  
  
“It’s just a couple piercings, Dom, it’s no big deal! You’re blowing this way out of proportion!”  
  
“Oh, yes? Well, speaking of which, why the fuck did you lie about Kelly piercing your lip? Jeremy told me he did all your new ones; why lie about something like that? That’s so stupid.”  
  
“Well I could tell you were getting annoyed that I’d gotten a couple more lately and I didn’t want you to dislike Jeremy before you even got a chance to get to know him... Clearly that made no difference seeing as you attacked him as soon as you could!”  
  
“Seriously? That’s ridiculous! Besides, you should see the way you look at the man; the way you two interact one would think he was the one you wanted to shack up with!” Okay, so clearly I had my limits too and couldn’t help but shout now too.  
  
Matthew’s usually bright blue eyes, were now hard with obvious anger and offense as he glared fiercely back at me. “Oh, I get it, this is about jealousy isn’t it?! I never would have taken you for someone so possessive! Also, it’s my body, I can do with it what I want!”  
  
“Not when you’re known to pump it full of harmful alcohol and drugs! Punching holes into it is yet another way for you to selfharm and to be honest I wish I didn’t have to father you either!” It was a low blow and I regretted it as soon as the words were out, but it was too late.  
  
Matthew recoiled like I’d physically hit him, the hurt blatantly obvious in his ever-expressive blue eyes. “Fuck you, Dom!” And with that he immediately turned tail and ran in the direction of his room, before the sound of him slamming a door rang out loudly.  
  
I wanted to run after him and say... something. I didn’t know what though. I’d meant what I’d said, I wasn’t about to apologise for voicing my concerns about his worrying behaviour; Matthew was being careless and self-destructive. It felt like all my efforts to help him out weren’t doing a thing to help him, not really. It made me feel helpless. And frustrated.  
  
As I then sat on the couch and watched telly, in an attempt to cool down and occupy my mind with something else, I couldn’t help my mind from still obsessing. From questioning if this whole step into a relationship of sorts with the kid had really been the smartest move. It clearly wasn’t helping him get any better.  
  
Maybe he should rather be given time to focus on himself, on getting better properly, instead of focusing on me.  
  
And maybe I should be focusing more on the fact that I was really having some financial troubles and start considering getting a smaller place to live; I didn’t know how much longer I could afford keeping the house. Without Tom’s input, I was really struggling to meet each month.  
  
I would also have to cut down on some of the less important costs, like the TV, we’d just have to make do with the free channels...  
  
When a couple hours had passed like that, with me sat there worrying, I eventually noticed that Matthew still hadn’t come out of his room, so I got up to go and check on him. What with his past history and all, I wasn’t keen on leaving him cooped up alone in his room for too long.  
  
“Matt?” I knocked on his door, wondering if he’d maybe just fallen asleep when I didn’t hear an answer, until I heard a muffled thud from inside and a muttered curse. “Oi, Matthew? You alright in there?” I asked, getting a bit annoyed again. Why had he just ignored me? “Matthew? I know you’re awake in there,” I continued when he still didn’t answer.  
  
“Good for you. And yeah, I am alright. I don’t need you checking up on me,” he snapped back at last from inside, frankly taking me aback with his bratty response. “I can assure you, I’m not doing any drugs, so you can leave me alone!”  
  
“Jesus, Matthew, no need to act like a brat, I have genuine reason to be concerned,” I couldn’t help but snap right back.  
  
“Fuck you, Dominic!” I jumped with fright then when something suddenly hit the door with a thud; he’d clearly thrown whatever it was. “Leave me alone!”  
  
“Very mature; literally throwing your toys out the cot like that! Fine, I’ll leave you be!” I felt a bit like a brat then myself as I stormed off and slammed my door behind myself, though the thud felt most satisfying. I was so pissed off I could put my fist through the wall.  
  
Sometimes I didn’t know if I was in a relationship or raising a child. It was stupid, but I forgot that he was still a teenager, but that had never been made more clear than right now and I wasn’t so sure I wanted to deal with this kind of thing. I wanted a partner who could help and support me too, not someone who I had to still help raise.  
  
I went to bed with a lot of doubts and a troubled mind.  
  
***  
  
Matthew was still locked up in his room the next day and I didn’t know if it was worth it to try and check if he was even going to bother going to work. The last thing I felt like doing was arguing, I’d woken up with a headache and (if it were possible) in an even worse mood than I’d been in last night.  
  
So instead I decided to just get ready in the blissful silence of my own company and grabbed a slice of toast, before I headed out to go and catch my bus. I wasn’t Matthew’s parent, it shouldn’t be my responsibility to remind him of his own; he knew he was expected at work today, it was up to him whether or not he pitched, but at this rate he’d be late if he even came at all.  
  
I wasn’t exactly surprised then when, an hour after his shift had started, the kid still had yet to pitch. When Alex asked where he was, I’d just replied with a shrug. I was, however, surprised when I got a text from someone I’d least have expected; heck I was surprised he even still had my number, let alone the fact that I still recognised his even after deleting it nearly two years previous.  
  
It was Damian and he wanted to reconnect. I couldn’t help but wonder if the universe was trying to send me a sign. Why had he chosen to send this to me today, of all days? If it had been a few weeks earlier I wouldn’t have even given his message the time of day. Now, however, I couldn’t help it from invading my thoughts and making me think and reflect yet some more on my life at the moment and where I even saw it going.  
  
He was apologising for how our relationship had ended and said he’d come to the realisation that it was me he wanted to be with and that it always had been. He’d just been too scared to believe it for himself back then and had consequently fucked things up royally. He said he had done a lot of reflecting on himself these past years and believed he’d changed. He desperately wanted to give ‘us’ another chance and was asking me to consider taking him back.  
  
Well if I hadn’t doubted the viability of what I had with Matthew before, I most certainly was now.  
  
Matthew was still so young, half the time I didn’t know if I was his parent or his lover. I on the other hand wasn’t so young myself anymore and really wanted to start thinking about settling down; a future with Matthew would be uncertain. It would also be unfair to expect him to settle down now too. He still had so much to experience of life, what if I was just a phase and he grew bored? It was a very likely possibility.  
  
It would be a lot easier on him than me. I’m about to be thirty; the older I get, the narrower my pool of options becomes. I also need some form of financial security, I can’t keep going on like this, it would be great to have the weight eased a bit by someone else.  
  
And then, of course, there’s also the fact that I’d like to have someone to lean on too. It felt selfish to think it, but sometimes I wanted to feel looked after and protected too.  
  
It kind of felt like Matthew and I were just playing house, but what I really want is a proper, adult relationship; something I know Damian can help provide me with, despite his past mistake. Perhaps I’d made a mistake myself by not forgiving him back then? After all, hadn’t it been speaking to ‘James’ that had helped give me the confidence to do so? The promise of a fresh start and a new romance that he represented...  
  
Of course he’d just turned out to be a lie, cooked up by a desperate and lonely teenage boy.  
  
With the kid I was also just feeling all the more inadequate; I clearly wasn’t helping him get rid of his demons. He really was a troubled person and I was honestly beginning to doubt if I was even capable of helping him... So far this relationship thing we had going was only complicating matters all the more instead of helping them.  
  
Of course, my mind in a turmoil of what to do, it was then that Matthew appeared, slinking into the store, his blue hair looking in need of a bit of a wash and his clothing all rumpled – no doubt hastily thrown on from off a heap on the floor.  
  
“Why’d you just leave me behind this morning?” he demanded when he reached me, his eyebrows frowning in annoyance, but those ever-expressive eyes of his reflecting hurt.  
  
“Well you made it pretty clear you wanted to be left alone, so I left you to it,” I shrugged, refusing to just give into those baby blues. He was still behaving like a brat and I had no desire to reward him for it. “Also, you’re late.”  
  
“Thanks to you,” he spat, not a trace of the awkward, stuttering kid I knew him to be in sight. A quick glance around the store showed that Alex was occupied on the other side helping the only customer, so at least our poorly hushed back and forth wasn’t causing a scene.  
  
“You said you didn’t need me ‘fathering’ you, as well as that you wanted me to leave you alone; now you’re bitching that I followed your wishes? Tell me, Matthew, do you even know what you want?” And there it was; I’d unintentionally ended up asking him something more than it appeared to be on the surface. Something I’d been contemplating for a while now.  
  
Instead of answering me though, he just glared daggers and shook his head in annoyed disbelief, before turning right around and storming off in the direction of the storeroom. Well then...  
  
***  
  
For the next few days Matthew and I didn’t do much communicating, only speaking when we really needed to and he stuck to sleeping in his own bed and spending a lot of time in his room. I left him to it, knowing he’d only blow up at me if I checked up on him again. I didn’t answer Damian’s text, or call him like he’d asked, but I didn’t delete it either.  
  
Mostly, I spent a lot of time thinking everything over, my rapidly approaching birthday never far from these thoughts either. Your twenties were for having fun, shit was supposed to start getting real in your thirties, wasn’t it? I needed to start thinking about my future properly. The fact that Tom and Angie were busy planning the coming wedding and their futures together certainly only stressed that all the more. I couldn’t live young and recklessly forever.  
  
I was busy lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, once more going over the decision I’d come to, when there was a timid knock at my bedroom door.  
  
“Come in,” I called, feeling calmer than I had in ages. I wasn’t looking forward to what I knew I had to do, but it would work out for the best of everyone involved.  
  
“H-hey, m-mind if I j-join you?” I turned my head to look over to where Matthew stood in the doorway nervously, wearing that stretched out old grey jersey of his and awkwardly holding his one arm with the other hand in a manner that was all him. Of course he’d choose now to go back to cute, awkward, stuttering Matthew.  
  
“No, I wanted to talk to you anyway,” I said, not moving to get up, so he slowly walked over before climbing on and lying down on the other side. I turned my head so I could face him, to find him also lying on his back and looking at me.  
  
“I-I’m sorry, Dom. I’ve been an immature d-dick this past week,” he apologised.  
  
“That’s alright, I haven’t exactly been sunshine and rainbows myself,” I admitted with a shrug. “Anyway, there’s something I need to discuss with you.”  
  
“Yeah?” he asked, his body language open for the first time in quite a while.  
  
I really didn’t want to do this... It’s for the best though. It really is. For both of us.  
  
“Yeah... Look, Matt, I’ve been wondering for a while, but this past week made me really properly analyse everything and, well, I think we should go back to just being friends.”  
  
“S-sorry, what?!” he asked, suddenly shooting up into a sitting position and looking back at me in horrified confusion and disbelief.  
  
“You and I, I just... this relationship isn’t doing any good for either of us. At the end of the day, you’re still only 19 and just beginning to discover yourself, while I’m going to be 30 soon and want to start settling down. I need stability; someone I can rely on for help and support when I need it. You can’t be expected to take on all that shit yet, you need to still live a bit, love a bit and learn. It was stupid of me to just go headfirst into all of this and for that I’m really sorry, Matt. I should have known better.”  
  
“Wh-what? No, you can’t be s-serious! Dom, who c-cares how old we are?! Look, I know I’ve b-been a complete idiot, b-but I also know what I want. I want you, Dom. I’m n-not interested in any-anyone else!” The panicked denial all over his features made me sit up to.  
  
“Matt, I know you may feel like that now, but it’s just a phase, you’re still young. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you and I’d just be stunting it along with your options,” I tried to reason with him, but he was having none of it.  
  
“P-please, Dom, d-do-don’t do this. P-please.” It broke my heart to see him like this and to have to do this. His eyes had welled up and he roughly wiped at one with the back of his knuckle. “P-please, if th-this is ‘cause of the p-piercings, I-I’ll stop. I w-won’t g-get another one. I p-promise. P-please, Dom.”  
  
“Matt, no, you see. You should want to take better care of yourself for you, not for me. I thought that if I gave you what you wanted, that if we had a relationship, I’d be able to help you better, but I’m not helping. You need time to focus on yourself and getting better. I’ll always be here for you, just... as a friend. What you really need is a friend,” I persisted anyway, reaching out a hand toward him though when more and more tears escaped despite him furiously rubbing at his eyes, but he just batted it away.  
  
“I-I d-don’t _want_ a friend,” he spat before quickly getting up and running away, the slam of his bedroom door following soon after.  
  
“Fuck.” It was foolish of me, but I’d still hoped that things would go over better than they had.  
  
Unsurprisingly when I knocked at his door later and asked if he wanted dinner, he didn’t answer. This time I decided to just leave him to it. He deserved some privacy; he really hadn’t taken my decision well. But then of course he hadn’t, I mean, what did I expect would happen?  
  
Feeling guilty and not quite sure what else to do, I rang up Tom.  
  
“Y’ello,” he greeted happily, I could hear some music playing faintly in the background.  
  
“I called it off with Matthew,” I said, getting straight to it as I collapsed on the sofa.  
  
“What? No shit...” he said, the happy tone of his voice dying down. “May I ask why?”  
  
So I then proceeded to offload and tell him about the last week and all my doubts and everything that had led up to my decision to end things. Tom just listened, never interrupting me once or telling me what a heartless bastard I was.  
  
“How’d the kid take it?” was all he asked then when I’d finished.  
  
“Not so well, as should have been expected. He’s locked himself back up in his room,” I replied with a sigh.  
  
“Ah...”  
  
“I feel like such a bastard right now.”  
  
“Well, Dom, you did what you thought was right, and at the end of the day, you should do what will make you happiest. There’s no use living a certain way that doesn’t really make you happy, just because you want to please someone else,” came his somewhat open response, neither denying nor confirming if he too thought I was a bastard. “Just keep an eye on him, yeah? I do worry about him.”  
  
“You and me both,” I agreed with a sigh. “I also just want what’s best for him too and, like I said, I just don’t feel like I am.”  
  
“Hmm... So, what’re you gonna do about this whole Damian thing then? Would you really be willing to put your past behind you and give him another chance?” Tom then asked, his tone giving no indication of what his opinion on it all was.  
  
“To be honest, I’m still not quite sure. I am, however curious about it all... he was the longest relationship I’ve ever had and despite how it all ended, he did make me very happy...” I admitted, thankful for the fact that Tom wasn’t being judgemental and genuinely cared.  
  
We then chatted a while about Tom’s preparations for his wedding and Angie’s plight to find ‘the perfect dress’ and how she was panicking as time was running out.  
  
“Dom,” Tom then began before we reached the end of our phone call. “I’ve been thinking about spending some time with Matt, maybe take him to see a movie or go play pool or something.”  
  
“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, especially what with the fact he probably won’t want to spend time with me... Thanks, Tom. It really means a lot that you also care about him,” I said genuinely grateful for him.  
  
“No problem, Dommeh. I rather like the kid myself, so I’m only happy to. I figure he could do with the support now too...”  
  
“Yeah... Well, cheers, Tom. Thanks for listening to me blabber on and for being a truly great mate.”  
  
“Anytime, Dom. Anytime. Now you just take care of the both of you, yeah?”  
  
After we’d both hung up, I decided to just forego dinner, close up and go to bed; with my guilty conscience, I doubted I’d be able to sleep much, but I figured there was nothing to do but try anyway.


	24. Chapter 24

Over the next couple weeks, things hadn’t really improved much with Matt. We barely spoke and he’d gone back to spending most of his free time cooped up in his room. If he hadn’t been going out fairly regularly with Tom or joined me back at work, I’d have thought he’d disappeared.

I still felt unbelievably guilty about the whole thing, but still couldn’t help but feel it was all for the best. Matt had to work more on himself, being with me was just a distraction from all his personal issues that wouldn’t just go away if he didn’t try deal with them.

Tom had said they’d been speaking a lot, but what about exactly, he hadn’t told me, saying it was private between the two of them. Which, well, fair enough. I was just glad Matt wasn’t all alone and had someone to talk to.

I tried to be there for him too, but understandably he’s still upset with me. Time, we needed time, the both of us.

In the meantime, I’d begun working on myself too. I’d started looking for a new place for us, a smaller one that would be more cost-effective, because right now the current rent of this place is really taking a toll on me. I had also finally replied to Damian and… well, agreed to go on a date with him.

Yeah, I know the whole ‘your ex is your ex for a reason’ argument, but a lot of time has gone by and he really seemed repentant and determined to try and give us another shot. With my thirtieth just around the corner, as well as Tom and Angie’s wedding, and perhaps admittedly desperate not to end up all alone for the rest of my life, I’d decided to give him a chance.

What was the harm after all? People grew up and changed and, from what he’d said to me, I figured I may as well give him another shot. It was hard to forget the way he’d always made me feel. One’s first true love is a powerful thing after all…

And surprise, surprise, but we’d really just hit it off, found that connection we’d once had, oh so effortlessly. It was amazing really the way we’d just so easily slid back together like nothing had ever happened, it honestly felt a bit like a sign even. Beside Damian, I never felt like all the pressure was on me, like I had to always be the responsible adult. I actually felt like I could just let go and lose myself with him. It was all just so much easier.

The thought made me feel guilty though, as I gave Damian a last kiss goodbye and hopped out of his car, which he’d parked in front of my house. He’d taken me out again, for a late lunch this time, to some posh restaurant a town over, to celebrate my long dreaded birthday, which despite all my wishing, had still come along.

Thirty. 3-0. Three fucking decades and this was my life? This was all I had to show for it? A house I didn’t even own, a best friend as all the family I had, who himself was moving on and progressing in his own life. A boy to care for, who refused to even care for himself?

Waving goodbye to Damian then, I couldn’t help the bitter taste that came to my mouth. He no longer felt like such a good idea after all. I was settling. I was giving up. Giving up on everything I had once ever hoped for and aspired to. It was becoming increasingly fucking clear that I was never going to have the whole ‘white picket fence and 2.5 kids and a pet dog’ fantasy either, but that shouldn’t mean I had to settle either.

It was all too much, I felt exhausted and all I really wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. My favourite part of every day.

When I’d unlocked the front door and stepped in, it was to find the house was in darkness. Frowning in confusion, due to the fact Matt had said he’d be home after I’d told him I was going out with friends for drinks after work, I then spotted light coming in from the kitchen.

“Matthew?” I called out, walking slowly towards the kitchen. What was he up to? The more I wondered about it, the more I remembered about the fact that he’d been acting a little off all morning at work. Well, more off than his current usual. Apart from an awkward little ‘Mornin’, happy birthday’ from him over toast that morning, he’d been outright avoiding me, without even pretending otherwise.

“In here!” I could then hear his voice coming from inside the kitchen, just before I reached the arched entryway and went inside.

My eyes widened then in genuine surprise and shock as I took in the sight of him standing in front of what looked to be a chocolate cake on the kitchenette, the words ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY DOM!’ iced in shaky blue handwriting, a few candles were also scattered on it, their flames dancing about, Matt’s trusty old Zippo laying on the table beside it all.

“S-surprise?” he said awkwardly, half-heartedly holding his arms out a bit, his teeth worrying at the silver ring in his bottom lip self-consciously.

“Oh, Matt…” I didn’t even know what to say. I couldn’t believe how sweet of a gesture it was, the entire thing clearly homemade, judging but it’s slightly wonky shape and the strong scent of freshly baked cake still lingering in the kitchen. I didn’t even know he could bake.

“Yeah, I, uh, I know it’s, um, not m-much, but… I w-wanted to do _something_ f-for you. I-I’ve been s-such a brat lately and I’m s-sorry. I d-don’t wanna fight with you, Dom. I l-lov–”

He didn’t finish, however, Matt suddenly cutting himself off as his eyes widened in obvious surprise and confusion, prompting me to turn around to see whatever it was his eyes had shifted from mine to focus on instead.

Damian.

Fuck.

“Sorry, it’s just, you left your jumper in my car, Dom,” he said, somewhat sheepishly, as he handed it over, his eyes drifting back over to the kid curiously and the forgotten cake he still stood in front of. “Who’s this then, Dom?” The question was asked so casually, clearly – at least to me – forced, as he offhandedly draped his arm around my waist.

Matthew’s eyes only widened, as they seemed to zone in on Damian’s hold on me, but otherwise, his face was completely unreadable. I wanted to be swallowed up by the ground, I honestly couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Erm,” I swallowed, feeling smothered but the sheer awkwardness of the whole situation. “Damian, this is, uh, Matthew. Matthew, this is–”

“Hope you enjoy the cake. I’m going to bed,” Matt said abruptly, cutting me off, his voice noticeably tense and threatening to wobble, as he shot me a look of what could only be called complete and utter betrayal, as he hastily exited the room. Damian looked at me questioningly, clearly confused, before the sound of Matt’s room’s door slamming rang out.

“Who’s the kid, Dom?” Naturally I’d also failed to tell anyone about each other too, choosing to keep the whole Damian thing a secret until I was more certain about him.

I just let out a weary sigh, unable to stop myself, as I brought up a hand to massage my temples. I could definitely feel a headache coming on. Happy fucking birthday to me.

 

***

 

I still had the remnants of what had become a full blown migraine the next morning when I woke up.

I’d kicked Damian out last night, after swiftly putting an end to whatever the fuck had been rebooting between us. I’d been a moron for even answering his text in the end; he hadn’t really changed much at all, if his stupid little show of possessiveness to Matthew last night had been any indication. My whole reason for even giving him another chance in the first place had been because I wanted someone more adult, yet he’d acted like an absolute child. I was better off without him.

I padded quietly passed Matt’s room on my way to the kitchen, not wanting to wake him. Last night had already been such a fuck up, it was the least I could do for him. I then put the kettle on and fetched the cake, which I’d stored in the fridge last night after eventually blowing out the candles by myself. After plating up two slices and making two mugs of tea, I took Matthew’s share and headed back towards his room with the peace offering.

After the whole disaster last night, the last thing I’d felt in the mood for, was yet another big argument with Matthew, so I hadn’t disturbed him and had instead just gone straight to bed myself, exhausted. Now I was near bricking it as I knocked on his door, uncertain of how he was going to react and whether or not he’d hear me out and be reasonable.

When he then didn’t answer, the nervous butterflies in my stomach felt more like a bunch of bats.

Luckily though, when I nudged the door handle with my elbow I felt it give, meaning he hadn’t locked the door. Hopefully he was still just asleep then.

I then opened the door with my elbow, my hands full, eyes concentrating on the tea, careful I didn’t spill any, before I then looked up, expecting to see a sleeping Matthew. Instead I ended up dropping both the mug and plate, the crockery falling to the floor with a crash and sickening break. I didn’t usually tend to be one for dramatics, but it had just been so instant on my part, I hadn’t even thought before it was all suddenly falling.

The room was empty.

There was no Matthew in it at all, let alone one fast asleep in his bed. A bed which had now been stripped, the duvet and naked pillow neatly tucked on one end, while the bedclothes had all been folded and stacked on the other. Gone also were his usual stacks of clothing I’d grown used to seeing in messy piles on the floor. It was gone. All of it. Even his black kitbag, the desk and every inch of the room stripped bare of any trace of Matthew. Gone. Everything.

My heart had begun to pound wildly in my chest as I looked around, not wanting to believe a thing I was seeing, until my eyes then landed on a folded piece of paper, which had been placed in the centre of the otherwise bare desk. Swallowing, I stepped over the broken crockery around my feet and reached out for it. My fingers trembled as I unfolded it, none of me wanting to believe what I already knew could only be the case. Matthew had left.

 

_Thank you, Dom. For everything._

_I’ll forever be in your debt_

_– Matthew_

 

It felt like a punch to the gut. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe this is how it had all ended. I knew he must be upset, but I’d never thought…

I immediately rushed to hunt down my phone in my room and hit Matthew’s speed dial number. His phone had been turned off though. Of course.

“Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” I cursed, as I then hit Tom’s number and waited for it to ring. My heart was still pounding. I couldn’t believe this was even happening. Where the fuck had Matthew run off to? Where _could_ Matthew even run off to?

“Hello, Dom?” Tom’s voice sound light and carefree, albeit a little sleep roughened still. He’d probably also just woken up.

“He’s gone.” I couldn’t help it and knew it probably didn’t make much sense to Tom, but they were the first words out of my mouth. I was still stuck in my state shock and disbelief. How could he just leave like that? Without even so much as a goodbye or any warning? Where would he even go? What was I going to do?!

I must have begun saying all these panicked thoughts aloud, my voice no doubt sounding as hysterical as my mind did, because then Tom was suddenly telling me to calm down and that he’d be right over.                              

                                                                                                                                     

***

 

We drove all around the neighbourhood, searching for him and asking around. We didn’t find him and no one had seen him though.

I told Tom what had happened the night before, about how I’d reunited – well tried to at least – with Damian, and about the kid’s little surprise for me and how that had all then ended so badly. He just grimaced and offered me a hug, trying to convince me not to be so harsh on myself. I couldn’t help it though, this was all my fault. I’d been such an idiot, why else had Matt run off? It was all on me.

After about noon, with still no luck, Tom had then suggested we go over to Chris and Kelly’s to see if Matthew hadn’t maybe just headed over to them. It had seemed like such an obvious solution, I couldn’t believe it had taken us so long to even think of it.

Saturday was a pretty busy day in the shop though, so it took a while for us to even be helped. Naturally it was bloody Jeremy who spotted us and headed over, all confused, but warm smiles. I bit down on my lip before I said anything I’d regret. At the end of the day, the bloke hadn’t ever really done anything wrong.

“Hey, Dom, what can I do for you?” he asked curiously, eyes then shifting to Tom as he offered him a smile and his hand. He had tattoos on his fingers. Classy. “Hi, I’m Jeremy.”

“Tom,” Tom nodded, shaking his hand and offering a smile of his own. “I’ve actually heard quite a bit about you from Matt.”

“Same in regards to you,” Jeremy nodded, his smile only growing. Ugh, we did not have time for this. We needed to find Matthew and we needed to find him now. I needed to know if he was safe.

“Look, Jeremy, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Matthew, have you?” I asked, deciding to just cut to the chase already.

His eyes swivelled back to me, but he shook his head. “’m afraid not. He hasn’t actually been around for a while, to be honest.”

“Shit,” I couldn’t help but curse, Tom’s resounding groan only echoing the general sense of frustration and worry this was all causing. Where the fuck was Matthew?

“Oh, Dom! What’s the matter, dear?” I turned around to find Kelly had spotted us now too, having finished with her client and come over to join us.

“They’re looking for Matthew,” Jeremy then oh so helpfully replied for me.

“Uh, yeah, he, um, well, he left. I woke up this morning to find him and all his stuff gone,” I hastily then filled in for myself, suddenly feeling all too self-conscious under her gaze, let alone bloody Jeremy’s. “Tom and I were just wondering if he’d maybe headed over here, but apparently not…”

“Wait, Matthew’s gone?” she asked, eyebrows raising in obvious concern. “Oh dear, what happened?”

I swallowed, trying to think of some way I could possibly explain myself to Kelly, as well as muster up the courage to do so whilst having Jeremy also eagerly listening in, before then Tom suddenly came to my rescue.

“Dom and him have, er, been arguing a bit lately. Seems things came to a bit of a head last night and now he’s left, without any explanation.”

Kelly’s eyes moved from Tom to then regard me, the warm depths clearly full of thought, but her expression completely unreadable. I swallowed, one of my hands coning up to scratch behind my neck awkwardly. It honestly felt like she was staring into my soul.

“Um, my, er, twelve o’clock has finally shown up, so, uh, I’m gonna take care of that then,” Jeremy then suddenly said, after a young woman had sheepishly stepped into the tattoo parlour, before turning to look at me and giving my arm a reassuring squeeze. “I hope he turns up soon. Nice meeting you, Tom.” And then he was off and I found myself staring back at Kelly all over again.

She let out a deep sigh, before then unexpectedly stepping forward and putting her arms around me.

“Stop blaming yourself, Dominic. You’re only human and so is he.” She then stepped back and offered me a sad smile. “Matthew is troubled, he’s not had the best of it, but, despite what we all like to think, he’s also no longer a kid. He’s his own person and he’s also responsible for his own decisions. We just now have to hope he makes the right ones and turns up again – I take it you’ve already tried to ring him?”

“His mobile’s off,” I nodded, unconsciously gnawing on my bottom lip.

“Well I’ll also try and reach him a little later, who knows, maybe he’ll pick up if it’s Chris or me. But please, Dom, this isn’t all your fault. You can’t hold yourself responsible for another person’s happiness. Matthew’s his own person, he’s going to do what he wants to at the end of the day.”

“Thank you,” Tom said, doing his best to give her a smile. “Please just let us know if you hear anything, yeah?”

“Of course, and same to you two. We do really worry about that boy. Hopefully though, with a bit of luck, he’ll show up here soon enough. He’s no doubt just needed a bit of space and time to think.”

“I hope so,” I sighed, dragging my fingers through my hair. I still couldn’t believe that this had happened. Matthew had better be safe, this was killing me. I’d never meant for any of this to happen.

I’d never felt more like an arsehole, honestly. Despite Kelly’s words, I still felt like this was all my bloody fault. I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to the kid.

 

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

Despite Matthew’s continued absence, time didn’t stop passing. Christmas came and went, followed by New Year’s and even, recently, Tom and Angie’s long awaited wedding – an event we’d all hoped (and prayed) he may actually resurface for, what with him having helped in making the invites for the big day and so knowing the details. He didn’t though.  
  
He never answered calls or texts, not from me, Tom or even Chris and Kelly, until eventually his phone number no longer rang, having been cancelled.  
  
Despite him no longer being around, I still saw him in everything around me and felt his absence in even the most basic daily activities. Every time I walked by his bedroom door, went to work without him, ate alone, or even just sat on the sofa in the evenings… Without him I felt alone. I hadn’t realised just how much he had ingrained himself into my life, to the point that everything just felt so… wrong without him around.  
  
Of course I worried too.  
  
I struggled to sleep at night, instead lying awake for hours, worrying, wondering where he was then and what he was doing. Was he okay? Was he safe? Where did he sleep at night? Was he eating? How was he coping?  
  
I had thought, maybe with time, I’d start to fret less, not feel his absense as strongly, but months had gone by now, winter had made way for spring, and yet I still worried and missed his presence in my everyday life. It felt as though I’d lost a vital piece of myself that I’d taken for granted before, or hadn’t even realised I’d had until now.  
  
Chris and Kelly were worried too, of course they were, and we’d come to a sort of mutual understanding that, should either of us hear anything new about or from him, we’d let the other party know. They’d also made it clear that I was more than welcome to pop by whenever, if I needed to chat or just have some company – it appeared that, somewhere along the line, they’d also apparently adopted me into their ever growing brood (Kelly’s pregnancy really showing now).  
  
I’d even seemed to settle my differences with Jeremy, who was surprisingly empathetic to my now seemingly constant moping. It turned out he was an amazing listener (something that no doubt came with the whole ‘being a tattoo artist’ thing). It was small wonder how this specific aspect of his personality had won over and most likely proven useful to Matthew.  
  
The one thing, of course, which refused to go away and remained at the forefront of my worries, was Matthew’s past. Matthew’s habit of turning to vices, namely drugs, to deal with his problems. It terrified me and was, without a doubt, one of the main factors as to why I found myself unable to get a good night’s sleep. It hung heavy over me, driving my fears for his safety and what he was doing at those precise (and near constant) moments that I found myself thinking of him...  
  
***  
  
I woke with a start, disorientated and confused, my movements feeling sluggish and delayed, as I tried to sit up and get my bearings. Everything was still dark.  
  
At first, I was lost as to what exactly had awoken me, until I suddenly realised it was my phone, which was ringing loudly on my beside table.  
  
With a tired groan, I reached out for it, suspecting it may be Tom calling to update me on his exotic honeymoon, forgetting time zones were a thing, until I could see that the unknown number was, in fact, an English one.  
  
Who the fuck was calling me at – I glanced quickly over at my alarm clock – 4 in the bloody morning?  
  
“Hello?” I asked cautiously, my voice sounding thick with sleep, much like my brain still felt. I’d given in a few hours earlier and just taken a sleeping pill, thinking I could use my Saturday morning to just sleep in and make up for all the hours I’d been unable to get during the past week (months).  
  
“Hello, is this ‘Dom’ speaking?” asked a completely unfamiliar female voice.  
  
I couldn’t be sure, I tried to stop all the thoughts which had instantly begun to spring, unwelcome, to mind. For all I knew this had nothing to do with him. She could just be some sort of saleswoman… At 4AM? Unlikely.  
  
My stomach seemed to drop and clench all at once, as I then struggled to get my response out, suddenly feeling all too awake, as I failed to keep the dread at bay.  
  
“Um, y-yes. I’m Dom. Can I help you?”  
  
“Uh, yes. Sorry to bother you, but I’m a nurse here at RD&E. A young, male patient has just come in, whose identity is still unknown, but your number was listed under ‘1’ in his mobile phone’s speed dial.”  
  
It seemed impossible, but I was sure my heart dropped even further. It felt like the very wind had been knocked out of me. No. No, it couldn’t be. It can’t be. No.  
  
“Sir, I just wanted to know–”  
  
“Matthew. Does he have blue hair? Slight build? About 19? What’s wrong with him? Is he okay?” The questions just rushed out of me, I was unable to hold them back. My heart was racing, yet everything around me felt like it had come to a dead standstill. “Oh God, please let him be okay.”  
  
“Er, yes, that does seem to match the description of him. All I am currently able to tell you now though, is that he is in a critical, but stable condition and is being treated for a drug overdose. We ask if you could–”  
  
The rest of her words seemed to go right passed me, as my brain struggled to absorb the fact that Matthew had been found, but that my worst fears had been confirmed. For a second it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was petrified. Absolutely terrified that Matthew might die.  
  
As soon as I’d put down the phone with the nurse, I immediately called up a taxi to take me to The Royal Denver and Exeter Hospital. It would cost a ridiculous amount of money (money I still didn’t really have), but all that mattered now was that I got there. That I got to Matthew.  
  
Oh God, what if he died before I could even get there?!  
  
It was an awful thought, but it was what ran through my head the entire journey, as I sat there in the taxi, leg bouncing and unable to sit still, no doubt irritating the poor cabbie to no end. I couldn’t help it though, it just wasn’t happening fast enough, I wasn’t getting to Matthew quick enough. It seemed like time was racing ahead, while we just dragged slowly on. Every second that passed was time that I was uncertain of how Matthew was doing. Time in which I could very well lose him for good, yet know nothing about it until I got there.  
  
Matthew needed me. He needed me to be there for him. Oh God, he just had to hold on.  
  
When we eventually got there, I swiftly paid the cabbie and hopped right out, in too much of a state for any pleasantries. I had to get to Matthew. He had to be okay.  
  
As I walked in long strides over to the reception desk, I could feel that my bottom lip was raw from my teeth anxiously gnawing away at it the entire trip. I hadn’t even realised I’d been doing it.  
  
After impatiently waiting my turn in the thankfully short queue, I stated my name and purpose and got directions to where Matthew was currently. I didn’t waste any more time then in making my way over to the intensive care unit, whilst doing my best to try and convince myself that Matthew would be okay. He would pull through, how could he not?  
  
My heart was still beating wildly and I could feel a tremor in my hand as I shoved my fringe out of my face and located the nurse who appeared to be in charge. She was now the last thing that stood between me and Matthew.  
  
***  
  
Fifty-fifty, ‘give or take’ were not the words one wanted to ever hear when considering the chance of someone’s survival. Especially when one was suddenly (and oh so bloody stupidly) only now realising that that someone was… well…  
  
When I finally got the chance to see him at last, after all this time and in this awful circumstance, I felt my heart stop. It wasn’t just because of all the tubes and how frighteningly small and broken Matthew looked lying in that hospital bed, hooked up to all sorts of machines. Rather though, that I was suddenly struck with the very real sense of just how damn much he meant to me and the realisation that...  
  
I loved him.  
  
I loved Matthew. It seemed ridiculous to only come to this realisation now, looking back on all the moments we’d shared and the decisions I’d made along the way. It should have been obvious to me from early on.  
  
Sure, he wasn’t James, tall, blond, muscular, successful lawyer, but rather a lost teenager on the cusp of manhood, confused and definitely flawed, yet undeniably sweet in nature and loving in spirit. He’s everything I thought I never wanted, but now, sitting beside his hospital bed, holding his worryingly warm, bony hand, praying to whatever god there may be out there that he pulls through, I have realised he is everything I need.  
  
It was breaking my heart to see him like this, hooked up to a ventilator and unconscious. It scared me. The nurses had informed me his heart had stopped on the way to the hospital and they’d had to use defibrillators to restart it. He’d also suffered several seizures before they’d managed to medicate him, as well as provided him with a drip, due to the fact he was so dehydrated.  
  
He looked deathly pale, with dark circles under his eyes and had lost weight since last I’d seen him, weight he hadn’t really been able to afford to lose. His cheeks were visibly sunken, usually defined cheekbones now starkly jutting out, much like the bones in his wrist and hand. His hair, a brilliant electric blue last I’d seen him, was unwashed and had faded badly and grown out quite a bit, clearly having gone without a trim, the roots of his (clearly natural) brown hair overgrown.  
  
He looked sick and awful. But then he’d died. His heart had stopped and they’d had to bring him back. I bit down on my lip and tried to ignore the drop of wet heat I could feel roll down my cheek.  
  
I stroked my thumb gently over the hand I held, my eyes dragging over his painfully thin arm to then take note of the state of the inside crease of his left elbow. Apparently he’d moved on from smoking and snorting the stuff to just injecting it, painful looking red puncture marks marring the otherwise pale alabaster skin, ranging from more faded to pretty damn recent looking. The sight churned my stomach and made me feel even more impossibly guilty than I already did.  
  
I quickly averted my eyes back to his face, his features relaxed in his state of sedation, dark lashes resting atop those cheekbones of his. He just looked so fragile and broken.  
  
I felt so unbelievably helpless, sitting there, unable to do anything but hold his hand and hope he’d pull through, while the sun rose outside, its weak light filtering inside the otherwise cold and sterile environment.  
  
Fifty-fifty. The nurses and doctors had said the rest was up to him, that this could go either way. I squeezed his hand tighter. I don’t even want to begin to think about what I’d do if he died. I’d never be able to forgive myself. I should have done more. I shouldn’t have been such a fucking idiot. I handled everything so badly.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Matthew.” The soft words slipped from my lips, getting lost in all the other noises surrounding us. Machines helping not only Matthew, but the other patients in ICU, the nurses working busily around us, a couple doctors doing check-ups and few other visitors with their loved ones.  
  
The entire experience was just so surreal. How had we ever allowed ourselves to get here?  
  
***  
  
“Dom, love, you have to stop blaming yourself. This isn’t on you, it was Matthew’s choices that landed him here, in this situation,” Kelly tried, certainly not for the first time since her arrival, reaching across the table to give my hand a squeeze, my sandwich and coffee beside it remaining untouched.  
  
When I’d managed to finally pull myself together enough and leave Matthew’s side, I’d called up Chris and Kelly and updated them. They’d arrived within an hour or two. Upon seeing me, they’d both then just pulled me into a big joint hug. I’d then had to let them go in to see Matthew without me, as only two visitors per patient were allowed.  
  
When Kelly had then come out, red-nosed and puffy-eyed, to trade places with me outside ICU on the hard, plastic chairs, to find me slumped on one, she quickly changed her mind and insisted we go grab a bite to eat at the cafeteria. When I tried to wave her off, she made it clear pretty quickly that the issue was non-negotiable.  
  
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t have run off if I hadn’t been such an idiot with the whole Damian thing. I should have told Damian in the car, then and there, that I’d changed my mind about him and I. I should never have answered his stupid text. Fuck, maybe I should never have even called it off with Matt – that’s when things really began to go to shit.”  
  
“Oh c’mon, Dom. You thought you were doing what was for the best and, you know what, I think it was. The two of you needed a break to focus on yourselves and realise what you both really wanted. Things just took a really unfortunate turn. Also, stop beating yourself up about your ex, the whole thing put your relationship with Matthew into perspective – it was kind of a necessary evil.  
  
“It’s just really unfortunate about what then happened with Matthew… But you must realise – whatever happens now – that’s not your fault. You can’t keep blaming yourself, it doesn’t help anyone. This all goes back so much further than you.”  
  
I couldn’t help but just sigh, burying my face in my hands, while the setting sun’s light streamed into the cafeteria. Regardless of what Kelly said, if Matthew didn’t manage to pull through, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself.  
  
***  
  
I woke up with a start, momentarily disorientated until I realised that I was in the hospital and had, for the second row in a night now, fallen asleep in the hard, uncomfortable chair beside Matthew’s bed. My hand had pins and needles and it having slipped out from under my head, was no doubt why I’d woken so suddenly.  
  
Yawning, I tried to roll a sharp twinge, I also then became aware of, out of my shoulder. God, I really must be getting old.  
  
When I then looked over to Matthew, still unconscious and peaceful looking (well, if you ignored the pipe going down his throat), not having moved since last I’d looked at him, I was quickly reminded of why I was willing to put up with whatever little aches or pains a damn chair was giving me. Right now, Matthew needed me.  
  
His doctor had come round, sometime before I’d clearly managed to nod off, and he’d seemed pretty pleased with how Matthew was doing.  
  
The thought put a sad smile on my face as I reached out to hold Matthew’s hand again.  
  
“Can I get you a tea or something, love?” The unexpected question startled me again, as my head shot up to find one of the nurses who worked the nightshift smiling sympathetically at me.  
  
“Oh, um, uh,” I stuttered uselessly, unsure. I’d just been so deeply absorbed in my own thoughts just then. She offered me another smile, this one even more understanding and kinder than the last.  
  
“Dr Watson said he was cautiously optimistic about Matthew’s chances and, trust me, in my many years of working with that worrywart of a man, and with my experience? That’s something you should really take to heart. I don’t wish to speak too soon, but I believe they’re already thinking about removing the ventilator. So, c’mon, love, have a bit of a stretch and I’ll make you a cuppa and then you can get right back to your young man.”  
  
“I, uh, I, um, th-thank you. Wow, that’s very kind of you,” I said, genuinely grateful, before, with one final glance at Matthew and squeeze of his hand, I got up to follow her.  
  
***  
  
“Hey, Dom. I’m so sorry, wish we could have been here sooner,” Angie said the next day, rushing up to me and pulling me into a tight hug outside the ICU. She and Tom had just gotten back from their honeymoon that morning and had apparently beaten me back to the hospital.  
  
“It’s okay, don’t worry, love,” I said, hugging her tightly back. The familiarity of her presence comforting. Chris and Kelly were great, they had been by the past two days and offered their support too, even Alex had come round yesterday (he’d also even agreed to looking after the shop for me, so I could stay with Matthew. The man really was a Godsend), but I hadn’t known them for nearly as long and it felt good to see her and Tom.  
  
“Wow, you look pretty rough, mate,” Tom greeted me, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug once Angie and I had parted.  
  
“Yeah, well, I only just went home for the first time in a couple days – sleep has been fleeting to say the least,” I said and, as if just mentioning it was enough, yawned into my fist, while a dull throb in my back also reminded me of the way I’d been spending the past couple of nights, hunched in that horrible chair.  
  
“But you said they were saying he’s doing a lot better?” Angie asked, a worried little crease forming between her eyebrows.  
  
“They did, hence Kelly managed to pry me away long enough this morning to go home to have a shower and ‘eat something that wasn’t out of a vending machine’,” I explained. And it was true, the doctors had told me in person that morning that Matthew was on the up and doing a lot better. It seemed like he’d actually managed to beat the odds and they were indeed now even talking about trying to lose the ventilator and moving him out of Intensive Care.  
  
“Matt’s definitely a fighter,” Tom agreed with a smile that looked rather a bit more than hopeful. It was good, I could really use some of his optimism. Just having him back at my side felt incredibly reassuring.  
  
***  
  
The next day Matthew had finally been moved into a general ward, due to his continued improvement and others needing his place in ICU more than him. He’d also managed to lose the ventilator and was expected to wake up soon, so now all there was left to do was wait…  
  
The waiting was torturous in and of itself, though at least now I could be assured he was okay – well, going to live. That was the thing though. He may be alive, but I didn’t know what state he’d be in when he woke up, nor have any idea what he’d been up to and gone through in the past few months. Looking at the state of him… I doubted it had been anything good.  
  
Since being admitted, Matthew’s various rings and studs had been removed, the holes which remained giving away their absence. I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d think of that, nor help but notice that he’d not added to his collection in his absence. Small mercies.  
  
The other thing, which seemed to hang over me like a building storm cloud, was how Matthew would react to me once he woke up. He’d been angry and hurt enough to leave and, well, I still couldn’t help but blame myself for what had then happened to him consequently.  
  
We’d both really messed up, I thought sadly, idly rubbing my thumb along his palm, his bony fingers cradled in my own hand, his skin thankfully not as feverishly hot as it had been when he’d first come in.  
  
God, he was so skinny. My eyes ran over his peacefully resting face, wishing for those bright blue eyes of his to finally open. These had been some of the longest few days of my life, the months of wondering, worrying and not knowing before them, having left me pretty rundown already. I felt like I’d aged a lot more in his absence.  
  
 _Fuck, please let him not still be angry with me. Please let him be able to forgive me._  
  
I don’t know what I’d do if he didn’t want to see me, or made me leave. If I’d learnt anything from this whole, awful experience, it was that I needed him in my life. That I loved him.  
  
I loved him and I’d been too bloody stupid to see it before. I’d thought I’d known what love was before, but I’d just been so blind to the actual thing happening before me. Love wasn’t this perfect, magical thing I’d held up on a pedestal for so long. Love was flawed, it wasn’t just easy bliss. It was hard and painful. It had to be worked on.  
  
I’d been such an idiot.  
  
So lost in my thoughts, I almost missed the twitch of fingers in my hand, the flutter of dark lashes on pale alabaster cheeks. The sudden movements felt like a shock to the system, my eyes instantly snapping open wider and heart rate picking up speed, the nerves I’d been fighting all along, kicking back in full force.  
  
When a hoarse groan then sounded in the otherwise quiet room, Matthew sharing the ward with only one there man, who lay sleeping on the other side of the room, I sat up straighter.  
  
“Matthew?” I asked cautiously, unconsciously leaning closer, giving his twitching fingers a gentle squeeze. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.  
  
“Ungh, uh,” he groaned again, as – what I’d been anxiously awaiting for for days now – his eyes fluttered open, bony fingers reflexively squeezing my hand back.  
  
“Hey, hey, hush, Matty, I’m here. It’s me,” I said when he groaned again, the sound unmistakably distressed, as his fingers squeezed mine almost painfully.  
  
At the sound of my voice, he turned his head in my direction, looking decidedly disorientated and confused, azure eyes wide.  
  
“Dom?” he asked, clearly confused, his voice raspy, no doubt thanks to the pipe he’d had down his throat for the last couple days.  
  
“Yeah, it’s me, Matty,” I nodded, still nervous in anticipating on how he was going to respond to me. I could feel my hand holding his going clammy.  
  
“W-where am I?” he rasped, eyes beginning to frantically flit about the room, his grip on my hand only tightening.  
  
Seeing him awake and so disorientated and obviously scared, broke my heart even more, despite the fact that it felt like there was no more left of it to break. “You’re in the hospital, love. You’ve been here for a few days already.”  
  
His wide, blue eyes flicked back to look at me, the fear in them seeming to shift into something else, a mix of different emotions I couldn’t quite manage to pin down. Before he was suddenly just breaking down and in a mess of tears, pulling his hand out of my grip so that he could use both to cover his face.  
  
“Matthew?” I asked, my stomach knotting with worry, hovering beside him, unsure whether or not he would even want me to help comfort him.  
  
“O-oh, God, D-Dom, I’m s-sorry. I’m s-so sor-rry.” I could barely make out what he was saying, his scratchy voice getting lost in his helpless sobs, the sound tearing at my insides.  
  
“Matt, Matt, no. No, it’s okay, love. Hush, I’m just glad that you’re okay, yeah? I was so worried, but you’re safe. You’re alive and that’s all that matters. I’m sorry, I let you down.”  
  
“Wh-what?” he asked then, his hands thankfully dropping from his face, watery blue eyes staring back at me, as a crease formed between his brows. “N-no, Dom, y-you didn’t. I let you d-down. I’m s-such a fuck up.” He sniffed miserably, tears rolling down his cheeks and I had to reach out to capture his wrists so he couldn’t hide behind his hands again. “I f-fuck everything up. S’all my f-fault.”  
  
“Oh, Matt, no. Love, please,” I pleaded with him, feeling so helplessly lost. I hadn’t expected him to behave like this when he woke up. I thought he’d be annoyed with me in the least. But of course he wasn’t, he was just scared and confused and I had no idea how to make any of it better.  
  
He just pulled free and sobbed on though, curling himself into a tiny ball on the hospital bed, his skinny body trembling and shaking away. Biting my lip, unsure of what else to do, but desperate to find some way to comfort him, I decided to just act. I toed off my shoes, before lowering the sidebar and then carefully climbed onto the bed.  
  
“Hey, Matty, I’m here, yeah? I’ve got you, it’s okay,” I tried to reassure him, pulling him as gently as possible into my arms, cautious not to hurt him. He just looked so fragile as it was and when I finally got him into my arms… he felt even more so. God, he’d lost so much weight, all the progress he’d made… and then some.  
  
At first he tried to wriggle free, his body trembling and choked off sobs sounding from him, before he thankfully then just accepted my hug and clung back onto me, dampness spreading along my shoulder as he continued to just cry into it.  
  
As I rubbed his back, murmuring whatever reassurances I could to him, it struck me just how often, in the time we’d known one another that we’d found ourselves in this position. This time though, curled up on a sterile hospital bed and after everything we’d gone through, of months of not having any contact and with Matthew having come so close to death, it felt different. I felt different.  
  
As I pulled him closer, burying my face in his mess of dirty hair, his scent unlike anything I’d ever known it to be, the sterile smell of hospital clinging to him, I tried to absorb the fact that the person in my arms had, at some point along the line, become my world. I loved this broken boy more than anyone I ever had before. I only wished I could take back all the mistakes I’d made along the way to this realisation. That I could take away all the pain he felt and had suffered. That I could help him. Fix whatever it was that kept making him go back…  
  
“Love you.”  
  
At first, I hadn’t even realised I’d said the words aloud, but then I suddenly felt his body go stiff in my arms, his trembling stopping. My heart seemed to then simultaneously clench, unsure.  
  
“Wh-what?” he then asked tearfully, pulling away a bit from me to look back at me in uncertainty, as he sniffed loudly and used the back of his hand to drag across his running nose. Charming. Yet, instead of being grossed out the way I usually would be by the action, I was hopelessly endeared instead. All the more grateful that he was here, _alive_ and in my arms. “Sorry,” he then grimaced, belatedly realising his instinctive action.  
  
“S’okay,” I smiled, blinking away tears of my own (since when had I even begun crying?!), “’nd I said I love you. I do, love you that it. So much. I’ve just been such an idiot, that it took me until all of this to realise it. I’m so sorry.”  
  
The watery smile he gave me in reply was so vulnerable and open, as he then reached out to wipe away one of the tears that was running down my cheek. I couldn’t help but pointedly look at his hand then though, unable to not remember what he’d just done with it.  
  
“Sorry,” he giggled, voice still all choked up.  
  
“S’okay,” I said again, unthinkingly returning the favour, as I reached out to cup his cheek and ran my thumb under his eye. His dark lashes, clumped together with some shed tears, fluttered at the contact.  
  
“Say it again?” he then asked shyly, leaning into my hand.  
  
“I love you,” I replied again, my heart feeling lighter every time I said the words to him.  
  
Instead of replying verbally, he reached forward to press a kiss to my lips, before hastily pulling away, eyes blowing wide. “S-sor–”  
  
Before the word could properly leave his lips, however, I pulled him right back in and kissed him. His lips were chapped and his mouth dry, but it all felt so unbelievably right, as he then just let go and kissed me back. It sounded ridiculous (and admittedly cliché) to think it, but kissing Matthew kind of felt like coming home. Like we just… belonged. Like it was meant to be.  
  
How had I never realised any of this before?  
  
As we kissed, I ran my thumb along the sharp line of his cheekbone and he hummed ever so sweetly into my mouth, one of his hands coming up to bury itself in the hair at the back of my head. For the first time in months, even before Matthew had run off, my chest felt lighter, the cloud of anxiety which had been hanging over me for so long, slightly lifted.  
  
I wasn’t under any delusions though. Just because Matthew had managed to pull through, didn’t mean everything was suddenly now all fine and dandy. There was still so much to be addressed, just thinking about it made the anxiety creep back in overhead. I had no idea where he’d been these past few months, nor what exactly he’d been up to or gone through. Aside from, of course, the fact that he’d obviously gone right back to using – that having in fact escalated.  
  
Matthew needed help. He needed a lot more help than I myself could provide. But right now? Well, I didn’t want to think about it, or the amount of money it would all no doubt cost. Thank God for the NHS or Lord alone knows how the hell I would have been able to fork out for his hospital stay.  
  
No, now was not the time to think about money or all the various other obstacles in our path, right now I just wanted to lose myself in this. In the moment. Right now, all that mattered was that I had Matthew back in my arms and that he was alive.  
  
“’m s’sorry, Dom. ’m such an idiot. ’m so sorry,” Matt said some time later, his words muffled against my shoulder, where he was burrowed up in my embrace, his own arms wrapped around me in turn too.  
  
“I’m sorry too. I’m just glad you’re here and safe,” I murmured back, chin resting atop his head and fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along the warm skin of his back, through the opening at the back of his hospital gown. I tried to ignore the way his vertebrae undeniably jutted out sharply beneath my touch.


End file.
